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AMERICANS 
AND THE BRITONS 



AMERICANS AND 
THE BRITONS 



BY 



FREDERICK C. DE SUMICHRAST 




NEW YORK AND LONDON 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 

1914 



/ /, i' 



ii /Gb 



Copyright, 1914, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 



Printed in the United States of America 

NOV -b 1914 



'CI.A387340 



TO 



H. C. S., 
D. H. M., 
J. T. K., 

AND MY MANY OTHER BELOVED STUDENTS IN 
HARVARD UNIVERSITY AND RADCLIFFE COLLEGE, 
IN GRATITUDE FOR THE MANY HAPPY YEARS 
SPENT WITH THEM AND THEIR COMPATRIOTS 



NOTE 



Owing to the European War and the consequent un- 
certainty of trans-Atlantic travel at the time of the pub- 
lication of this work, the author, who lives in England, 
was unable *co read final proof. 



INTRODUCTORY 

If any apology be required for the appearance of 
yet another book on the United States, which the 
writer does not admit, it can readily be found in the 
fact that a country, and the people inhabiting that 
country, present ever varying points of view to the 
student; that what strikes one observer as the most 
significant characteristic, appears to another of 
shght importance. 

And impressions and observations differ likewise 
according to the temperament, the education and 
the opportunities enjoyed by those on whom or by 
whom they are made. The traveler, especially the 
man or woman of high social standing who comes to 
the United States furnished with letters of introduc- 
tion into the best society, and who hurries from city 
to city, from East to West, from South to North, 
carries away images and recollections, and receives 
and gives a very different notion of the country and 
the people from that which will be conveyed by one 
who has long lived in the land, who has mingled 
familiarly and intimately with the people, who has 
seen them not in functions and hospitable entertain- 
ments only, but has shared their life in every detail. 

Both these views of the country are useful and 
both may aid in forming a just conception of what 

vii 



INTRODUCTORY 

the United States and its inhabitants really are. 
The impressions of the swiftly hurrying traveler 
not unfairly represent the way in which the outward 
differences in manners and customs strike the ob- 
server who has been brought up in another and older 
civilization. Even when these impressions are un- 
favorable — and it cannot be denied that at times this 
is the case — they at least show the inhabitant of the 
country the points that prove offensive or displeas- 
ing to the stranger ; where they are, and that is more 
frequent, pleasant as well as vivid they equally indi- 
cate what, in the national character or in the habits 
of the people, appears engaging to the outsider. On 
the other hand, they are impressions only, and do 
not, or ought not to, pretend to be more, for while 
it will be granted that a trained observer will rapidly 
and accurately note the most important points, yet 
trained observers are not numerous. 

The dweller in the land loses, unquestionably, the 
sense of vivid contrast which imparts charm to the 
work of the impressionist writer. The strangeness 
of many things has become dulled by habit, and he 
views them in a totally different light. He has 
passed the stage of outward observation only and 
has reached that of inward questioning. He has 
learned that many things which, on the surface, are 
utterly unlike, are in reahty not far apart; he has 
recognized that others whose purely external simi- 
larity has caused them to pass unnoticed, are in 
their very essence antagonistic. He seeks rather to 
ascertain the causes at work in the evolution of a 
society which presents evident differences and occult 

viii 



INTRODUCTORY 

ones ; to discover the laws which govern the develop- 
ment of beliefs generally held, the purport of certain 
tendencies. 

This makes his work different in every particular : 
it is no longer a series of impressions, brilliant, 
vivid, but impressions merely ; it becomes an attempt 
to study an interesting race, a country which al- 
ternately excites enthusiasm and provokes exaspera- 
tion; which offers unequaled opportunities for per- 
sonal action and success, and which at the same time 
not infrequently discourages by its very fierceness 
of effort; which proclaims the existence of liberty 
on every occasion and sets up simultaneously some 
of the most tyrannical forms of repression and in- 
justice; a country where speech is of the freest and 
the wildest ambition may be gratified, yet where men 
are often afraid to speak their minds and might is 
frequently right ; where democracy triumphs in out- 
ward seeming, and autocracy oft rules more truly 
than in more than one of the Old World empires ; 
where politics is the pursuit of the many and true 
public spirit the appanage of the relatively few; 
where gold is the one god of many; where poverty 
stalks rampant by the side of extreme luxury, and 
where noblest ideals are the sure stay of countless 
thousands, and generosity intelligent as well as lav- 
ish — a country, in short, of contrasts the most 
striking, the most interesting, and where may be 
studied the steady growth of all that makes for the 
best and the highest in public and in private life, 
albeit veiled to the ordinary spectator by the multi- 
tudinous details of every-day life, the fuss and ex- 

ix 



INTRODUCTORY 

citement of a part of the daily press and the brazen 
manifestation of evil and corruption find repudiation 
of duty and responsibility. 

Another motive had its share in the writing of this 
book; the present year, 1914, completes the Century 
of Peace between the United States and Great 
Britain. On December 24, 1814, was signed the 
Treaty of Ghent, which put an end to the War of 
1812. Since that time, though war has been more 
than once imminent, hostilities between the two 
great countries have never broken out. 

This is not because differences did not arise, be- 
cause no jealousies smouldered, to blaze up sud- 
denly. On the contrary, disputes were not infre- 
quent and at times very bitter. Yet peace was 
preserved. And if, even now, antagonism to and 
suspicion of Great Britain are exhibited in certain 
circles, the manifestation is sporadic, the feeling in- 
herited and traditional rather than inspired by 
knowledge and cause. 

Nor does the antipathy, under present conditions, 
become very active. It is conceivable that, as at 
the time of the Venezuela episode, a wave of anti- 
British feeling may cause an outburst of angry 
threatenings and very abusive language, but the 
sane part of the nation — and it is by far the largest 
— speedily recovers its self-mastery, and it becomes 
plain that the solid sense — the horse sense, as Amer- 
icans call it — of the people as a whole is averse to 
conflict with Great Britain, or, for the matter of 
that, with any other power. 

This does not mean that Americans believe in that 



INTRODUCTORY 

false peace called peace at any price, or that they 
are less jealous of the honor of their flag and the 
rights of their citizens. The power that should be 
fooHsh enough to assume that and to act provo- 
catively upon that mistaken belief, would forthwith 
be startled by the stern and uncompromising man- 
ner in which Americans would vindicate themselves. 
But their large common-sense does not believe in 
needless war, nor does it believe that war can always 
be avoided, and if it should at any time become plain 
that war is the only issue out of a difficulty, it would 
be accepted without hesitation and waged without 
faltering. 

The United States does not hanker after naval or 
military glory. Its people have not the enthusiasm 
which the French had for military supremacy and 
which we still have for naval achievements. The soul 
of the American nation is set neither on the making 
of many dollars exclusively nor on militarism, but on 
honorable peace, on the development of civilization, 
on tlie purifying of national life, on the education 
of its multitudinous foreign components in the ways 
of righteousness and good government. It is con- 
struction, not destruction, that appeals to the 
American. 

And the same is true of the great mass of the 
British nation throughout the Empire. There is no 
desire for conflict unless inevitable, no hankering 
after victories in the field or conquest of further 
lands. The very idea of Empire, so often and wil- 
fully misrepresented, is an idea of peace and civili- 
zation; of the establishment of law and order; of 

xi 



INTRODUCTORY 

the training of races for self-government; of benefit 
to humanity at large and not of advantage to the 
British race in particular. Superadded to this, in 
the case of the United States, is the deep feeling that 
that great and wonderful country was in the main 
settled and first developed by Britons; that notwith- 
standing the enormous immigration into it of men 
from all parts of the world, the root stock of the 
powerful and intelhgent nation is still Anglo-Saxon ; 
that the same glorious traditions are shared by 
them, the same noble literature common to both, the 
same speech spoken. And the admiration felt for 
the marvelous progress made by the people of the 
United States, for their resolute grappling with 
problems complex and at times dangerous, their de- 
termination to vindicate the superiority of popular 
constitutional government, strengthens the tie be- 
tween the two countries from the British side at 
least, and certainly in a large measure from the 
American also. 

Herein, doubtless, lies the essential reason of the 
maintenance of peace during the past hundred 
years, although within that period the United States 
has fought one of the most tremendous wars of 
modern times, and Great Britain has had on her 
hands more than one conflict. Both Americans and 
Britons have recognized the superiority of peaceful 
intercourse to the habit of provocation and fighting ; 
both, as democracies, have gained freedom from the 
personal ambitions which, in Europe, have too often 
animated sovereigns ruling autocratically; for there 
is a vast difference between declaring war without 

xii 



INTRODUCTORY 

consulting the people who are to furnish the food 
for powder, and declaring it with the consent of 
the same people. 

Further, both nations have similar great ideals — 
doubtless not clearly perceived, or not perceived at 
all, by the bulk of the people — which none the less 
sway both nations and have determined their wise 
resolution to avoid causes of quarrel, and if, and 
when, these nevertheless arise, to remove them by 
peaceful and common-sense methods. It is, in short, 
the high idealism, the sane outlook on their relations 
with each other, their mutual recognition of the fact 
that the duty of such mighty powers as they are is 
not to destroy, not to retard civiHzation, harmony 
and peace, but to establish and foster them. 

Finally the consideration that a sympathetic 
study of the working of democracy — the fruit of 
years of Hfe among Americans of all sorts and con- 
ditions — could but advantage those among us 
Britons who are concerned to educate our own 
democracy and to direct it along the right and safe 
path, or rather to enable it to direct itself wisely 
and for the greater good of humanity at large. 

In the past, and perhaps even in the present, to a 
limited extent, Britons have occasionally laid them- 
selves open to the charge of viewing certain aspects 
of political, commercial, industrial or social life in 
America with a tinge, if not of contempt, at least 
of superiority on our part. Such things, we are 
convinced, could not occur within the compass of 
our own Blessed Isles. The smug satisfaction this 
evidences has of late received rude shocks: high 

xiii 



INTRODUCTORY 

political standards have been greatly lowered; dem- 
agogism has reigned almost uncontrolled and the 
voice of the class-divider has rung throughout the 
land as brazenly as ever it has sounded in the 
United States; the personal honesty of men in 
places of great trust and of vast political power has 
been properly called in question; "whitewash" has 
been applied as freely as ever it has been in America 
by any Investigation Committee of the Senate or the 
House of Representatives, and with as little success 
in the end with the public at large and without 
restoring the respect forfeited by the subjects of 
the process. The observance of law and the due 
maintenance of order, on which we have prided our- 
selves while we scornfully pointed to the disregard 
of them in the Great Republic, is no longer a theme 
on which we can dwell with prideful gratulation. 

But no more than we despair of the Old Land and 
the people within it, no more than we admit that the 
evils which have grown up among us are irremedi- 
able, is the American democracy to be despaired of 
or the people assumed to be incapable of cutting 
out the rotten parts and conserving the whole. The 
democratic form of government, of the constitution 
of society, is unquestionably responsible in part for 
these evils and ugly manifestations, but not because 
these are inherent in democracy but simply because 
democracy, giving larger freedom to man and allow- 
ing a wider scope for his activities, has not yet fully 
grasped the fact that a sound and thorough civic 
education is an absolute necessity. The more edu- 
cation is developed, the more the duty of the citizen 

xiv 



INTRODUCTORY 

to the State is well taught, and made part and par- 
cel of the mind of the dweller in democratic lands, 
the greater will be the progress and the fewer the 
evils. 

And that is what Americans do understand; that 
is the end to which they are tending, nor slowly. 

r. C. DE S. 
Mount Eaton Manor, 
Ealing, England. 



CONTENTS 







PAGE 


Introductory 


vii 


CHAPTEK 

I. 


The Outward and Visible 


1 


11. 


Social Consequencks 


. 12 


III. 


Individualism .... 


28 


IV. 


Manners 


41 


V. 


Patriotism ..... 


66 


VI. 


Naturalization .... 


80 


VII. 


Democracy and Militarism 


90 


VIII. 


Government 


106 


IX. 


Law 


129 


X. 


Marriage ..,,,. 


151 


XI. 


Woman ...... 


174 


XII. 


The Golden Calf . . . . 


196 


XIII. 


Art 


219 


XIV. 


Education 


240 


XV. 


The Press ...... 


261 


XVI. 


Foreign Relations . 


277 


XVII. 


Anglo-American Relations 


303 


XVIII. 


The Peril to Democracy . 


328 


XIX. 


Conclusion 


346 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 



THE OUTWARD AND VISIBLE 

To the greater number of visitors to the United 
States — of visitors, that is, whose means enable 
them to travel in comfort and whose object is not 
to settle in the country — the striking feature, the 
one that at once forces itself upon them, is the 
astonishing material prosperity of the land. Along 
with this, there is the sense of unfinishedness, of 
crudeness, rawness which likewise is pressed upon 
the attention, even when traversing those parts of 
the country which have been longest settled and 
which are closest to the Old World. 

The first is a point to which their attention will 
be immediately drawn by whomsoever of the in- 
habitants they may meet. The towering sky- 
scrapers, the vast factories, the luxurious hotels, 
the costly public buildings, the "stores," filled with 
richest fabrics, the theaters and other places of 
amusement, the newspaper offices, the insurance 
buildings, rivaling each other in splendor, the great 
museums, the frequent public libraries ; these are the 
things which the passing observer, the vagrant tour- 
ist notes and is made to note. 

1 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

There is little of art, less of history, although 
there is plenty of history to be learned and enjoyed 
in every part of the United States ; a history at once 
picturesque and instructive, with a fascination 
equaling that which the annals of the Old World 
exercise. 

Little of art, not that the average American will 
grant this, true as it is ; but the average American 
has not the real esthetic feeling and does not appre- 
ciate what art is in its essence, consequently he is 
more than satisfied; he is proud, of the specimens 
of sculpture, of architecture, of painting which he 
exhibits complacently to the foreign visitor as evi- 
dence of the superiority in this, as in every other 
respect, of his nation to the effete populations of 
Europe. 

But the signs of material prosperity are, after all, 
those of which he may be proudest, for they present 
an aspect of American life which is full of signifi- 
cance. They constitute the outward and visible 
symbol of the marvelous development of the land and 
its resources, and of the intense energy of its peo- 
ple. Yet it is, after all, of a far more interesting, 
far more significant, vital force unceasingly at work 
in the country and among the people. 

The United States — America, as it is commonly 
called — is a democratic country, and it is in the 
study of the working and consequences of the demo- 
cratic principle that the chief peculiarities of the in- 
habitants, native and foreign-born, can best be 
understood. There are lessons to be drawn from 
the democratic feelings and habits of the people 

2 



THE OUTWARD AND VISIBLE 

which escape the casual visitor, apt to observe 
merely certain external results, without perceiving 
or seeking, in the great majority of cases, to search 
out and grasp the causes which have brought about 
these results, themselves indications of deeper effects 
which affect the whole mental attitude of the race. 

Every European notices, for instance, the re- 
grettable lack of manners. He is fairly certain to 
be exasperated by the rudeness of the majority of 
people with whom he comes in contact ; to be mad- 
dened by the total absence of politeness on the part 
of persons whose position would, in a European 
country, insure civility if not cordiality. He can- 
not stomach the indifference to rank, such as it is, 
and especially to rank as he is accustomed to re- 
gard it, that is, as entitling the holder to a certain 
amount of deference, to a stated degree of regard. 
The off-handedness of the servant, the rudeness and 
shortness of the shop-girl, the boorishness of the 
casual employee, the unconcern of the official, the 
familiarity of the colored porter on the railways — 
all these things strike him as an offense against 
the very foundations of social life. 

Unquestionably rudeness and lack of civility are 
much in evidence in the ordinary intercourse of life 
in the United States ; respect and attention are not 
frequently to be met with, and roughness and in- 
difference are characteristic of many of the people 
with whom one comes into touch. It is not pleasant 
to note the naive selfishness which prevails as the 
rule of conduct of so many in the community; it 
is painful to mark the disregard of those simple 

S 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

amenities which tend to soften the daily round of 
duty, but these conditions are merely the conse- 
quences of the failure of democracy in certain direc- 
tions and which manifest themselves more than any- 
where else in the United States, though not unknown 
in parts of the Old World. Further, this failure 
is mainly in unimportant, or comparatively un- 
important matters, while the success of democracy 
is very evident in deeper and more vital ones. 

Unhappily the European does not usually en- 
deavor to discover the reason of this condition, and 
is satisfied with condemning the people and their 
democracy in the lump, instead of seeking the cause 
and thereby being enlightened and interested. For 
there is a cause, a reason, for every manifestation, 
and simply to be disgusted and to give up is a 
poor way of attaining knowledge. It is not neces- 
sary to look far for the origin of the mannerlessness 
of the bulk of the population, and the process is 
entertaining in itself. And once the cause has been 
discovered, the European, if a person of sense, will 
readily forgive for the sake of the information he has 
acquired. 

But it must be added that it is not easy for the 
passing traveler to carry out such an investigation, 
and that even if he attempts it, the knowledge he 
gains may fail to reconcile him to habits so different 
from those he is accustomed to. Life in the country 
for a period of time, the longer the better, is requi- 
site to understand any people. Impressions have 
their value, and from the comparison of the impres- 
sions of numbers of intelligent travelers, even 



THE OUTWARD AND VISIBLE 

though they be purely superficial, the native will 
obtain a distinct notion of the way in which he 
appears to the outsider who has watched him for a 
brief period in his own surroundings. And these 
impressions should not, as is generally the case, be 
dismissed with contempt as unworthy of attention, 
because, as is alleged, they represent imperfect 
views and crude conceptions. They are no more 
than impressions, it is true, but impressions count 
for much in daily life. Doubtless they do not rep- 
resent the people as they really are, but they do 
represent them as the people show themselves to the 
passing observer. After making all due allowance 
for national and temperamental prejudices and pre- 
possessions, these impressions do convey a partially 
correct view of a people's character and certainly 
of a people's ways. 

Now the impression of incivility which is about 
the very first one receives in the United States, far 
from disappearing after a time, is, on the contrary, 
intensified, and when one has penetrated the secret 
cause of this attribute of the American character, 
regret is felt that democracy should thus act upon 
the intelligence and lead to a disagreeable view of 
itself at the very outset. What this cause is and 
how it affects nearly all classes shall be seen later. 

As for the material prosperity, it is impossible to 
avoid noticing it, even if the inhabitants could con- 
sent to avoid drawing attention to it. It stares 
one in the face everywhere, it is insistent, omni- 
present. Business is not done quietly or unobtru- 
sively, but with a determination that all men shall 

5 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

know that business on a vast scale is being carried 
on under their very eyes. So the office buildings 
soar into the air; the loftier they are the happier 
the occupants. Loftiness involves huge cost, and 
huge cost must spell unexampled prosperity. The 
American is singularly concerned to have the tan- 
gible and visible proofs of his success continually 
before his eyes ; the mere possession of success does 
not suffice ; the manifestation of it, the loud, at times 
blatant, manifestation must translate the fact for 
the benefit of his compatriots, the confounding of 
the foreigner and the due exaltation of himself. A 
man who is simply and modestly rich has not fulfilled 
his duty to the world of which he forms a part; his 
wealth must be spread out, as it were, for all to be- 
hold. Whatever shape it may assume, it must be 
exhibited and attention must be drawn to it, the 
eyes of the great world turned upon it. 

That this is really quite unnecessary, that the 
signs of wealth are naturally abundant enough and 
eloquent does not strike the dweller in the Land 
of Millions. Yet no intelligent person can traverse 
any large part of the land without perceiving the 
wealth of it : hosts of factories, the fleets of vessels, 
the endless trains of cars, the armies of workmen, 
the far-stretching cities, the innumerable towns ; all 
these things speak most eloquently of the prosperity 
of the United States. But they are not enough for 
the average American, whose great standard of 
success at present is precisely Money, in some shape 
or other, but Money first and last. 

Thus the impression one receives, and which deep- 
6 



THE OUTWARD AND VISIBLE 

ens the longer one lives in the country and enters 
into the life and beliefs of the inhabitants, is that of 
the extraordinary and disproportionate importance 
of Money. It has become the True God of millions 
of Americans : the deity they worship with a fervor 
and devotion the Christian may well envy. The 
God of Gold is in truth the Lord of the Land, and 
democratic as the people are, they are almost a 
unit in bowing the head and bending the knee before 
this potent sovereign. 

Almost, but not quite. For here manifests itself 
a trait of the American character which must not be 
lost sight of, which is singularly strong and con- 
stant, and which justifies the attraction and admira- 
tion which the nation compels from fair-minded ob- 
servers. That feature is the solid, deep common 
sense happily united with a high ideal. 

There is, among Americans, an unconscious tend- 
ing toward higher ideals, which is the fruit of teach- 
ing, of tradition, of the authority of great thinkers 
and writers, of a perception, vague it may be but 
none the less existent, that there is something higher 
than Money in the world, something nobler than 
mere material success. 

All Americans do not exhibit this trait, but it is 
so general that it influences the masses even while 
they are unaware of it. It is not readily perceived 
by the casual observer ; it becomes very plain to the 
dweller in the land, provided he is not blinded by 
prejudice or warped by prepossession. It acts in 
a subtle but very efficient way; it tinges the 
thoughts of many a writer in the daily press ; makes 

7 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

itself felt in the speeches of more than one public 
man; it is active in the teaching of the great uni- 
versities, themselves so powerful an influence in the 
molding of character and consequently of public 
opinion later, when their graduates go forth into 
the world to take their share in the government. 
It is particularly vigorous among that part of the 
population which is not herded in the great cities, 
where the incessant rush and bustle diminish the 
opportunities for quiet thought and sane reflection. 
And it affects the nation, the race, whenever a 
crisis occurs, whether it be political, social or in- 
dustrial. It is at the very times when it would ap- 
pear that the democracy would get out of hand most 
surely and hopelessly that it suddenly proves itself 
amenable to wise counsel and prudent direction. 
Time and again such crises have arisen; time and 
again they have been peacefully and sensibly solved, 
thanks to the common sense of the great bulk of 
the people, to the occult working of the great ideals 
which are after all what the people of the United 
States most cherish. Undoubtedly they worship 
money ; unquestionably material success has for them 
charms which too often blind them to the methods 
which have been pursued in securing it, but when 
the test comes, when the moment for choosing be- 
tween the merely material and the truly ideal ar- 
rives, the democracy of the country may be relied 
on to choose rightly. Then neither enormous for- 
tunes nor skiU in intrigue avail: the true public 
opinion once roused becomes irresistible. To any- 
one acquainted with the political and industrial his- 

8 



THE OUTWARD AND VISIBLE 

tory of the United States within the last twenty 
years, more than one instance, more than one irre- 
fragable proof of this fact will readily recur. 

Nor is it difficult to account for this. 

Truly, money has ever and in all countries ob- 
tained recognition as a source of power, and riches 
have conferred upon their temporary holders both 
influence and prestige, though it is at least question- 
able whether it ever had the astounding hold upon 
minds and souls that it has in the United States at 
the present day. But it has not always been so: 
before the War of Secession other ideals held sway, 
and while fortunes were sought eagerly and passion- 
ately enough, while wealth exercised its well-nigh 
unfailing power, none the less it was not the domi- 
nating factor in public and private life which it 
became in the course of the marvelous development 
of the country once the war was over and the minds 
of men turned once more to the business of pro- 
ducing instead of destroying. Railways, gold and 
silver and copper mines, industries of every kind, 
oil springing from the bowels of the earth, the ex- 
ploitation of the vast forests ; there were so many 
sources of wealth, rapid and immense, which caused 
men to rise to affluence in the course of brief years, 
which gave impulse to manufacturing, to commerce, 
and opened up such vistas of swift-gotten wealth 
that all heads were turned and the millionaire be- 
came the hero of society. That position he cer- 
tainly holds more securely than ever before: for- 
tunes, the more colossal the better, are the one 
great ideal of the larger number of the people, but 

9 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

these, happily, do not constitute the sole ideal. 
Great fortunes are not, indeed, at all the ideal of 
very many good men and women. 

This class, and it is extremely numerous in the 
United States, has high aims and noble purposes, a 
clear understanding of the morals of life and a 
resolute way of abiding by them which makes for 
all that is best in the life of a nation. The deceit- 
fulness of vast wealth, the error of believing that it 
is the one supreme aim to the attainment of which 
all else should be sacrificed, is a doctrine to which 
they do not subscribe, cannot subscribe, for it is 
essentially opposed to their convictions. They have 
hitched their wagon to a star, and move forward to 
the consummation of ideals far beyond those of the 
mere money-getters. This class is the very salva- 
tion of the morality of the country, for, while little 
heard of, unpretentious, quiet, it makes its influ- 
ence felt and compels acquiescence in its views. 

Yet another impression which residence in the land 
confirms, is that made by the singular mingling of 
races in the population of all the large cities in 
the country, but more especially, perhaps, in those 
upon the Atlantic coast. The types met with in 
the streets, the tongues heard, the names seen on 
the fronts of the business establishments, surprise 
the newcomer and strike the old stager by their 
remarkable contrasts. What has become of the 
American stock, so-called, soon constitutes a prob- 
lem. Doubtless that American stock still exists, 
but it is not over-much in evidence. It is the Ger- 
man, the Spaniard, the Italian, the Russian, the 

10 



THE OUTWARD AND VISIBLE 

Hun, the Slav, the Greek, the Armenian, the Syrian, 
the Chinese and above all the Hebrew who appear 
to dominate in point of numbers. But with the 
peculiarly foreign appearance of much of the popu- 
lation, with the unquestionably foreign origin of 
so many of the names blazoned along the fa9ades, 
one notes that the foreign flag is conspicuous by 
its absence. It is the Stars and Stripes which 
everywhere wave in the breeze. Nowhere is the 
Union Jack visible as Old Glory is in London. The 
American, one quickly perceives, is intolerant of 
any ensign but his own within his wide domains, and 
courtesy has not yet so far progressed as to permit 
of a display of national flags irrespective of political 
intention. 



n 

SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

No one of the impressions noted in the preceding 
chapter is incorrect or faulty, and if all the impres- 
sions reported by visitors to the United States were 
as well founded as these, the value of the books pub- 
lished, on the country and the people, would be 
considerable indeed. 

The first three impressions are manifestations 
of causes which have been long at work molding 
American character and which are still working. 
They have acted and are acting not on the genuine 
American stock alone, the fineness of which grows 
more and more upon the observer the longer he is 
in contact with it, but also, and in a yet greater 
degree, upon the alien races which immigration has 
poured in countless hordes into the country. Upon 
the better element in these foreign importations the 
action of the democratic principle has been bene- 
ficial; upon the greater mass it has been unfavor- 
able, the reason being that the democratic principle 
requires, in order to be fruitful of the best results, 
infinitely more preparation of the individual and of 
the mass than is readily perceived. Thus it is 
that the native American stock best illustrates the 

1» 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

advantages of democracy, as, side by side with it, 
the multitude of aliens too frequently exhibits its 
worst faults. 

But what is the native American stock? Here, 
the expression includes the descendants of the British 
settlers who founded the great colonies and the 
descendants of those admirable Dutch families 
which created New Amsterdam. This stock, hap- 
pily far from being exhausted, forms to-day the 
backbone of the nation and exerts an influence far 
exceeding that which its comparatively small num- 
bers would seem to justify. It is this small body 
of men and women, yet imbued with the sound prin- 
ciples of the forefathers, which maintains the best 
traditions of pohtical life and most wisely selects 
from among the multitude of new proposals for 
progress and development, those which most nearly 
fulfill the conditions which make for peace, order 
and real progress. This small body it is which in- 
spires and directs the tendency to reform, where 
reform is plainly required; a course regrettably 
hindered, on the other hand, by the operation of the 
masses of foreigners of a low social class and yet 
lower intelligence, who, soon obtaining the suffrage, 
form an army of corruptible and corrupted voters, 
the easy prey of demagogues and unscrupulous poli- 
ticians. And to the native American stock must be 
added the better elements of the foreign races, more 
particularly the British, the Germans, the Swedes, 
the Norwegians, and not inconsiderable number 
of the Irish, the Northern immigrants, as a rule, 
being a better quality than those of the Latin races 

13 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

or of the populations of Central and Eastern 
Europe. 

All dwellers in the United States, whether 
descendants of the original settlers, newly ar- 
rived immigrants, or sons of foreign parents since 
naturalized, all equally hold certain beliefs 
and are swayed by certain convictions, the 
outcome of which is the formation of a type of 
character which may be termed American and 
which exhibits the peculiarities already dwelt upon. 
These beliefs and convictions are rarely the 
result of knowledge, so far as the bulk of the popu- 
lation is concerned, still more rarely of study and 
reflection; they are traditional now, handed down 
from one generation to another, passed on from one 
batch of immigrants to the next, but always ac- 
cepted with simple faith and artless credulity. This 
in nowise diminishes their power over the masses; 
on the contrary, there is no faith so firm and un- 
shakable as that which cannot give a reason for its 
existence but simply is. 

In this respect the Americans are not unlike 
Europeans, for a moment's reflection will recall that 
Europeans Hkewise cherish certain beliefs which 
many of them would find it hard to explain or 
justify. And it is in the conflict between these dif- 
ferent convictions that the peculiarities of each race 
or set of races become conspicuous. 

The European believes in the distinction between 
classes and translates his belief into practice. 
Theoretically he may consent to the dictum that all 
men are born free ; scarcely will he accept that other 

I4i 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

part of it which declares that they are all bom 
equal. Equality in the abstract he may grant; so 
long as it remains an abstraction and does not in- 
trude upon the organization of society, he tolerates 
the notion of equality, but no farther. In practice, 
the European is the opponent of social equality, and 
undoubtedly he is largely justified in his position. 
He clings determinedly to the division of mankind 
into classes, orders, sets. The patrician, the sol- 
iier, the naval man, the merchant, the tradesman, 
the literary man, the artisan, the farmer, the la- 
borer, the miner, the navvy are, he will concede, 
members of the great human family: in one sense, 
carefully restricted, they are all equal, but in fact 
they are widely apart. The class above is certain of 
its superiority to every class below itself, and every 
individual in the upper class takes care that in some 
way his superiority shall be felt and acknowledged. 

The American has the rudiments of class distinc- 
tion, but he strives unceasingly against the estab- 
lishment of the principle and the practice, and the 
[v^hole constitution of the society of which he forms 
a, part, the whole manner of recruiting that society 
a,re against the naturalization of the European sys- 
tem. The latter is the outgrowth of centuries of 
slow changes in civilization, in the formation of the 
social body. It has not been transplanted to the 
A.merican continent and if it were so transplanted 
tvould not find a favoring soil. 

The individual, not the class, is the cardinal 
point in the United States. The family, in Europe, 
is more important, even in this twentieth century, 

15 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

than the individual. In the United States it is pre- 
cisely the reverse. In Europe, the individual must, 
and does, think of the collective interests of the 
family, and when necessary his own must yield to 
them; in the United States the interests of the in- 
dividual are apt to dominate. The child, in the 
Old World, is subordinate ; in the New, it reigns. 
"The Philippinos will never be fit for self-govern- 
ment," said one who had taught among them for 
some years, "until they have learnt that the child 
rules the home." This is a conception of family 
relations whoUy foreign to the European character, 
but it is not a theory in the United States: it is a 
fact. The child does rule and the seniors give way 
to him. 

Thus one of the first consequences of the applica- 
tion of the democratic principle is the development 
of individualism, of a strong sense of the superior 
value of the individual, of a profound belief in the 
unlimited rights he enjoys by virtue of birth, and 
which, in the language of the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence, that earliest textbook of the American 
child, are "unalienable." 

But "birth," in the meaning attached to the word 
in Europe, is a thing unknown in the United States. 
That is, no special advantage is derivable from the 
fact of belonging to a certain family. The name 
of Washington or Lincoln, of Hamilton or Jeffer- 
son, is not in any way in itself an aid to a man or 
a woman engaged in carving out a position. There 
is a certain very restricted advantage, no doubt, 
to be derived from connection with an old family, 

16 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

Puritan, Pilgrim, Cavalier, or Dutch, but the mere 
fact of that connection does not confer on the pos- 
sessor, save in a singularly narrow circle, any pres- 
tige or aid him to attain to any particular position. 
The family as such cannot and does not wield influ- 
ence. It may admit or reject a candidate for admis- 
sion to its own social circle, but beyond that it is 
practically powerless to affect the career of the 
individual. It is good to belong to an old family, 
unquestionably, and to do so is not a handicap, for 
mankind recognizes instinctively that a line of hon- 
orable men and women confers on the descendants a 
certain measure of respectability while involving at 
the same time a certain measure of responsibility. 
But the connection, while it may be of some slight 
service to the beginner in life, will not carry him 
through life if he prove useless or unworthy. A 
man must "make good," as the phrase is ; must give 
proof that he is in himself worth something, can 
make his own way, and does not depend on the for- 
tuitous accident of birth for the position he occu- 
pies or seeks. This, indeed, is an essential difference 
between the Old World and the New. 

All men are "born," in the United States, for all 
men are born equal. This is the cardinal principle 
which is instilled into the minds of all American 
children from the moment their intelligence is able 
to grasp it. "All men are born free and equaL" 
The phrase is part and parcel of the intellectual and 
moral make-up of the American; it permeates his 
whole life; colors his every view of his relations 
toward his fellowmen; reacts upon his treatment 

17 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of foreign nations. It is the shibboleth of the 
people, the one truth to which they hold fast, what- 
ever uncertainty they may feel concerning other 
matters. 

These two ideas of Hberty and equality go far to 
explain the attitude of the Americans and their 
conduct in the daily intercourse of hfe. It is not 
that they all realize it or consciously act upon 
them, for the act is as a rule wholly unconscious 
and almost instinctive. They know themselves to 
jje free men; they believe themselves freer than any 
other men on the face of the earth; they are well 
aware, individually, that they have no superiors : all 
are equal. This is utterly different from the state 
of mind of the European. The patrician there is 
assured of his superiority ; respect is due him ; he 
does not look for it, does not ask for it : it comes of 
itself. It is as much a part of the life of his in- 
feriors to respect him and to exhibit that respect 
as is breathing. The inferior does not dream of 
looking on the noble as his equal. He does not, 
generally speaking, conceive the idea that he may 
be just as good as the great man who wears a title. 
Such thoughts may enter the mind of a Radical, of 
a Sociahst, of an Anarchist, but not the mind of a 
reasonable man "properly brought up." To that 
man the world is made up of classes and the aris- 
tocrat belongs to the highest, the most select, the 
most stand-ofF. The aristocrat may, without fear, 
show himself friendly to those socially beneath him: 
his condescension can never be mistaken for an ad- 
mission of equality; it remains condescension, 

18 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

gracious, courteous, as becomes a being who dwells 
in a higher sphere. 

Now this is utterly opposed to American ideas. 
Mere birth can never, in that country, confer such 
marked privileges or so completely differentiate a 
man or a woman from his or her fellow- Americans. 
Money will ; wealth does ; for Money is the supreme 
power in the land, and is worshiped accordingly. 
All the honor, all the respect, all the awe which are 
the portion of rank in the Old World are the por- 
tion of Money in the New, and, next to Money, 
personal power, personal ability, talent, genius. It 
is literally true, in the United States, that "the 
rank is but the guinea's stamp, the man's the man 
for a' that." 

Hence the vast difference in the conduct of life, 
the vanishing of those amenities which had their 
foundation in the realization of superiority on the 
one hand, of inferiority on the other. Hence the 
lack of manners, the unpleasant frequency of sheer 
rudeness. All the manifestations which constitute 
civility, politeness, are unconsciously usually, con- 
sciously not infrequently, looked upon as badges, 
expressions of a condition which does not exist and 
must not be permitted to exist in a democratic 
country. Comparatively few Americans have read 
Locke and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, but too many of 
them behave as if they had laid to heart the pre- 
cepts of the Genevese philosopher. The teachings 
of the Contrat social found fertile ground in Amer- 
ican minds and in the minds of the innumerable im- 
migrants, and they have resulted in a large crop of 

19 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

self-satisfaction and also, it must be added, of self- 
deception. 

The American is continually taught, from the mo- 
ment when he is capable of understanding the mean- 
ing of words and ideas, that he is one of a race of 
free men. It would be more accurate to say of 
the only race of free men, and although, when he 
grows up and becomes capable of observing for 
himself — which he does not always do — he may con- 
clude that the freedom so loudly boasted of is in 
many respects entirely illusory and fictitious, he 
nevertheless clings to his fetish; he insists on mak- 
ing himself believe, in the face of abundant proof to 
the contrary, that equality is in very sooth the 
foundation of his form of government. He learns 
very early from those around him, from their atti- 
tude toward their fellows, to act independently of 
others, to think of himself first, last and all the 
time. He is Sovereign ; others may be sovereigns 
also, and they claim to be, but their sovereignty 
lacks something of the completeness which marks his 
possession. The truest democrat is he who is 
most convinced of his innate, inborn, natural su- 
periority to everyone else. And this species flour- 
ishes in luxurious and most unpleasant abundance 
in the United States. 

This mode of thought, translated into action, 
rubs the European on the raw, for the latter, ac- 
customed to the traditions of class distinction, of 
courtesy, of respect from "inferiors," of amenity 
in the daily intercourse of life, cannot understand a 
condition of things so completely at variance with 

20 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

his own ingrained notions. Unaccustomed to meet 
with cool indifference he meets with it not occa- 
sionally, but continually, and therefore resents it 
and exclaims against it. 

It goes without saying that while all this is 
true of the vast majority of the people, there are 
charming, if rare, exceptions. Not all Americans 
are absolutely mannerless ; there are degrees, and 
the well-bred American, man or woman, is the peer 
of any high-bred European. But it is too pain- 
fully the fact that this sort of exception is not much 
met with in daily life, and the other type, the char- 
acteristic type is also the commonest. 

Then words have a different meaning, very often, 
in the United States from that they bear in the Old 
World, and this constitutes a further obstacle to 
the ready apprehension of the real character of 
Americans. The European has, for instance, been 
accustomed his life long to attach a certain definite 
sense to the name "gentleman" or "lady." He in- 
stinctively restricts these appellations to well-born, 
well-educated, well-mannered people. They are not 
by him applied indiscriminately to Tom, Dick and 
Harry and their female congeners. But because 
class distinctions do not exist in the United States, 
or exist merely in an atrophied form and on slight 
sufferance, these words have changed in applicabil- 
ity and are used without thought by everyone, by 
the masses as well as the better educated. 

The European accepts the existence of a distinc- 
tion between himself and others, and this without, 
in most cases, parting with any shade of self- 

21 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

respect. If he be, saj, a laborer, he understands 
that there is a great gulf between him and the 
"gentry." That abyss he little dreams of bridging 
— probably he believes that it has always existed, 
and if the teachings of the Socialists lead him to 
entertain other opinions, these are rather in the di- 
rection of compelling improvement in his wages than 
in that of elevating himself socially. The scheme 
of which he is a part is part and parcel of the order 
of creation. He has been taught quite early and 
with much repetition that he belongs to one class 
and the "gentry" to another, while higher still 
shines the nobility, the persons composing those en- 
viable classes being a superior race of beings, hu- 
man, no doubt, but of a race of which naught can 
ever make him a member. His duty, as he has been 
taught in his catechism, is delightfully simple in 
this regard; it is to order himself lowly and rever- 
ently to all his betters. 

The American is quite incapable of seeing this: 
for him there is no hard and fast barrier separating 
him forever from the heights, however dizzy, he 
may be ambitious to climb; there is no rank to 
which he may not aspire, to which he may not at- 
tain; there is no position which may not be his if 
only he exerts himself and possesses the ability to 
"get there." The day laborer will not always re- 
main in that condition; the proof is that hundreds 
and thousands of others who began life in an hum- 
ble station are now in the full enjoyment of all the 
privileges and delightful attentions which the pos- 
session of money, of much money, of very much 

22 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

money entails. There is no valid reason, given that 
he is himself endowed with ability and strenuous 
perseverance, why he himself should not, within a 
measurable number of years, reach exactly the same 
position. Fortune will smile on him as on others. 
They are in nowise different from him, these happy 
ones of the world, save that they "have made their 
pile" and he still has his to make. But make it 
he can and will, stand where they stand, enjoy what 
they enjoy. It all lies in his own hands. He can 
succeed; he can get there. Thus no thought of 
gazing upon the successful beings, who are bask- 
ing in the limelight of the daily press and inhaling 
the incense offered up by the fashion reporter, as 
being superior or cast in a different mold from 
himself, ever enters his brain. It cannot enter it. 
All men are born free and equal. He is as good as 
any of them, at bottom; just at present they have 
more of the riches the country holds in store for 
the strong and the able, but he is able and strong 
too, and part of these riches will assuredly come 
to him. Wherefore then should he experience or 
betray the faintest symptom of inferiority? He 
does not and never will. He has no "betters" to- 
ward whom he must order himself "lowly and rev- 
erently." 

The European cannot share that point of view 
at once; at least it is not often the case that he 
does so. Doubtless a little observation and a little 
reflection would modify his unfavorable opinion, 
diminish his loathing, but a man who is annoyed, 
angry, outraged — for he feels outraged, the Euro- 

23 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

pean, under such circumstances — does not reflect. 
What he feels he expresses ; what makes him indig- 
nant, he blames, and as he hears continual talk of 
equality, he damns equality, as understood and prac- 
ticed in the United States, in the most whole-hearted 
way. 

Yet he is wrong. The manifestation undoubtedly 
is unpleasant, but the sense of equality in itself is 
one of the most potent factors and most beneficial 
forces at work among the people. This much may 
be granted to the irate European: that the fact, 
undeniable as it is, is not at first readily apparent. 
It is at the root, none the less, of the success of 
unnumbered thousands who, in the European coun- 
tries yet bound by age-long traditions, could never 
have risen from the lowly estate wherein they were 
born. It is the secret of the fortune of many emi- 
nent men who have found it possible to attain that 
eminence because of the knowledge, early acquired, 
that in their country talents and merit are sure to 
receive their reward without regard to considera- 
tions of position or birth. It is the spur which 
starts many a man and many a woman on a career 
which eventually proves of great public benefit. It 
is the belief which upholds many a lad in a struggle 
which one of his condition would scarce even dream 
of entering upon in one of the older European 
lands. Like all excellent things it has its weak side, 
its defects, its disadvantages, but after allowing for 
all these — and the sum of them is far from beuig 
insignificant — the truth stands out clear and im- 
pressive that this rooted conviction of equality is 

^4. 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

one of the mainsprings of the development of the 
country and of the amazing progress of the nation. 

Not even in France, now so democratic and has- 
tening to test practically the still more advanced 
theories of Socialism, not even in France, where first 
was proclaimed that all careers were open to talent, 
and where now the Presidency is within every man's 
reach as was the marshal's baton within the reach 
of every soldier, not even there has the democratic 
principle of equality produced as noteworthy re- 
sults as in the United States. France, repubUcan, 
democratic, almost socialistic, retains in spite of all 
the changes and violent upheavals through which 
the body politic has passed, in spite of the convul- 
sions which have radically modified social conditions 
and conferred upon the middle and lower classes op- 
portunities undreamed of under the ancien regimey 
France is even yet bound by habits centuries old, 
by traditions the grasp of which has been loosened 
but not wholly cast oif, by beHefs and ideas which 
even the progress of hberty has been unable to alter 
greatly or to destroy utterly. 

Our own England herself, unquestionably a 
democratic country and tending at times to in- 
cline toward socialism, does not afford to the ordi- 
nary man a tithe of the opportunities he enjoys in 
the United States. Assuredly talent makes its way 
with us, and that to a far greater extent than is 
commonly supposed by Americans, who are so prone 
to be and remain ignorant of conditions in our 
land; undoubtedly merit has its reward, the masses 
enjoy poHtical liberty, and the lad of parts may 

25 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

hope to make his mark in time. But in England 
class distinction is still an established fact, a 
strongly established habit, which the demagogue has 
been essaying, with far too much success, to root yet 
deeper and to turn into a cause of hatred. And 
class distinction is based, after all, on a difference 
assumed to exist, or actually existing, between in- 
dividuals of the same people, and it is thus antagon- 
istic to the principle of perfect equality which in- 
volves the element of the particular success achieved 
in the United States. Liberty may be, as many 
affirm, more real in Great Britain than in America, 
but it is true also that mauger the partial abridg- 
ment of liberty in the United States, the opportuni- 
ties for men of all conditions, of all degrees, are 
larger and more numerous than they are even in the 
right little, tight little island itself. 

In England social distinctions are most power- 
ful; in the United States it has been attempted to 
make them so. The attempt is regularly renewed 
and as regularly fails ; is bound to fail, for the up- 
ward pressure from below is incessant, and the crop- 
ping-up of the "inferior" class continuous. It is 
useless and hopeless to decree that such and such 
requirements must be complied with ere a man and 
his family may be recognized by a select class ; the 
man simply wishes his way in and the class yields. 
At need he creates a new class. The class, indeed, 
is continually changing: the exclusives of a genera- 
tion ago are on the shelf at the present time, and 
the topmost swells of to-day wiU find themselves, 
in the course of a few years, relegated to compara- 



SOCIAL CONSEQUENCES 

tive obscurity. The rich man of twenty years since, 
upon whom society looked as the embodiment of the 
graces of American civihzation, has been wholly sup- 
planted by the multimillionaire of the day, and the 
latter is doomed to disappear in his turn as a 
special order. There is no permanence to social 
distinctions in the United States so far as these are 
based on birth as in the Old World, on position ac- 
quired, on riches gained. There is perpetual change 
going on, and the success of those who have sprung 
from nothing and made their way in the world, 
destroys the prestige of birth, just as the triumph 
of those who have won world-wide fame by intel- 
lectual achievements or deeds of merit ecHpses the 
merely dazzling splendor of the newly-rich. 



in 

INDIVIDUALISM 

The most marked characteristic of democracy as 
it has developed in the United States is, therefore, 
individualism, that is, the sense in each man or 
woman of his or her own importance, an importance 
derived from the fact that all are equal. It is un- 
necessary for the purpose of this demonstration 
to enter at present upon the weakness of the theory 
revealed in the further fact that women and negroes 
are not treated as being the equals of men in every 
respect. 

That individualism, which is frequently carried 
to the extreme of simple egotism, affects not social 
relations and business and professional opportuni- 
ties and relations only, but manifests itself as a 
force in education, in legislation, in the administra- 
tion of the laws, in their application in the courts 
of justice. It tells upon the army and the navy; 
it is felt in the religious life, and universally in a 
totally wrong conception of the true relation of the 
individual to the State. 

Indeed it may be said without exaggeration that 
much of the evil tendency evident in the intercourse 
between labor and capital, much of the corruption 

28 



INDIVIDUALISM 

in public life, much of the sickening sentimentalism 
which condones crime and makes a hero of the crim- 
inal, thereby lowering the public standard of morals, 
is due to the action of this element in democracy. 
It is not oligarchy or autocracy that is needed to 
correct it, but the simple recognition of the fact, so 
completely lost sight of too often, that democratic 
government involves on the part of those who live 
under it and benefit by it, the discharge of duties 
toward the State as well as the enjoyment of per- 
sonal rights by the individual. 

The irresponsible individualist abounds in the 
United States ; he is one of a large class, out of 
which arise the grumblers, adepts at finding fault, 
shirkers when it is a question of putting their 
shoulder to the wheel; the indefatigable, but very 
fatiguing talkers, who spout platitudes on every oc- 
casion but never do a hand's turn to improve con- 
ditions ; the indifferent, who consider it beneath 
them to take an active interest in the affairs of the 
society to which they belong; the purely ignorant, 
who have never been made aware that they, jointly 
and severally, are directly concerned in the progress 
and success, first, of their own community, next, of 
that of humanity. 

As the individual is so is the nation. If the bulk 
of the citizens cannot and do not regularly dis- 
charge their duties to the community, the nation 
will not, for it cannot, fulfill its purpose in the ad- 
vancement of humanity. And a democracy that 
loses sight of humanity and its needs is no longer 
a democracy, for it fails in the most essential of its 

29 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

obligations, since, in the present condition of the 
world, no nation can isolate itself and declare that 
it will confine itself solely to its own development, 
regardless of what is going on elsewhere. 

It is out of the question for it to do so, no mat- 
ter how resolute its decision. And the United 
States least of all perhaps, even though at the pres- 
ent time there are numbers of intelligent people, 
educated, patriotic, who lament the fact that the 
country has become a world-power, who express the 
liveliest wish to see the Philippines, Porto Rico, 
Hawaii abandoned, exactly as so many in our own 
land have in years gone by heartily sought to dis- 
member and restrict the Empire and are apparently 
still bent on doing so. These Little Englanders 
have their like among Americans to-day, in men who 
look upon outlying possessions as being merely dan- 
gerous factors in international embroilments. 

The anti-imperialists of America are evidently 
bhnd to the fact that even were their views adopted 
and carried out, were the Panama Canal abandoned 
and the Zone restored to Colombia, their country, 
through its enormous trade, its varied and produc- 
tive industries, its immense immigration, its impor- 
tant share in the financial affairs of the world, 
its concern in the maintenance of universal peace, 
must inevitably be drawn into the domain of world- 
politics. 

They do not appear to see, in their eagerness for 
the restoration of a condition of things long since 
outgrown, that even granting their country could, 
by some miraculous process, be thus kept apart from 

SO 



INDIVIDUALISM 

the rest of the world, it would be prevented from 
being so by its very nature and constitution. For 
it is not the prodigious material development of the 
land which attracts the attention of thinkers so 
much as the overwhelming importance of the politi- 
cal, economic and social problems which it is con- 
tending with and which it is driven, whether it will 
or no, to endeavor to solve. Never has the experi- 
ment of democratic government been essayed on a 
scale so vast as in the United States, and on the 
outcome largely depends the ultimate fate of this 
form of government in other and older lands. 
Democratic government has not yet been conclu- 
sively proved the best, that is as understood and 
applied in America. Too many defects, some of 
them fraught with almost disastrous consequences 
to the masses, have been brought to light; but, on 
the other hand, such numerous and patent benefits 
'have resulted from it that the attention of all 
thinking people is forcibly drawn to that land and to 
the efforts, happily more and more successful, made 
day by day to strengthen, purify and develop the 
government of the people by the people. 

All nations, all great nations particularly, owe a 
duty to humanity and are bound to fulfill it. But 
not the richest, the most powerful nation can dis- 
charge adequately that stupendous task if the units 
vrhich together make up the nation are indifferent 
to or ignorant of their own duties to the nation it- 
self. A community of indifferent individuals will 
prove, in the hour of need, a broken reed. It may 
i^ve birth to a strong man, to a heaven-sent leader, 
! 31 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

but the greatest leader is helpless if he has no one 
to lead, or if those who should follow and support 
him have never learned the lesson that in a demo- 
cratic state it is one for all and all for one, and not 
every man for himself and the devil take the hind- 
most. Democracies are apt to plume themselves on 
their superiority to despotisms, nay, to monarchies, 
even to democratic constitutional monarchies, which 
is quite right if every member of the democracy 
does his work and fulfills his obligations to the 
State ; but if any large number, though still a minor- 
ity, avoid it, the despotic government will surpass, 
in effective performance, the democratic. 

Under a despotic government, given an able ruler, 
a nation may accomplish much. The individuals 
have no rights, that is true ; their will does not 
count ; they know one thing only : to obey, but they 
know that right well. Consequently the ruler can 
carry out his purpose with certainty. Under Louis 
XIV France rose to be the leading nation in the 
world ; under Napoleon the Great it became the first 
military power in the universe. The purpose of 
Louis and of Napoleon was not, in point of fact, the 
highest and noblest, but it is unquestionable that in 
the efficacy of its carrying out the despotism of 
the one and of the other, it was the main factor of 
success. 

In a democracy the certainty turns to uncer- 
tainty. Every man has a will, more or less strong; 
every man has a voice, directly or through his 
elected representative, in the conduct of affairs, but 
not every man is equally able to judge sanely and 

32 



INDIVIDUALISM 

wisely or to act in the best interests of the com- 
munity. Every will, or at least the great majority 
of wills, must be brought into comparative har- 
mony. And here hes the difficulty which faces a 
democracy which attempts to do great things. Its 
efforts may be irretrievably ruined at any moment, 
unless the individual members have been so trained 
that the head of the democracy, the delegate en- 
trusted with the execution of the purpose, feels 
that he is absolutely and surely backed by the 
popular will. 

In a democracy, and this is very true of the 
United States, the State, or Commonwealth, as it is 
often and very wisely termed, is, theoretically, the 
one object dear to each and every member of the 
community; practically, it is mostly the individual 
who is dear to himself. Unquestionably there is 
some concern for, some interest in, the community, 
but on examination that will be very generally found 
to occupy a subordinate position with most men in 
the country. It is not, with the great majority, a 
question of how far they may be of use to the na- 
tion and through the nation to humanity, but on 
the contrary how far the community can be of ser- 
vice to them individually. 

At the time of the assembling of the convention 
which drew up the Declaration of Independence, as 
a little later when the French Assembly produced 
the Declaration of the Rights of Man, the need 
really was for an unmistakable affirmation of the 
rights of the individual as against the power of 
the autocrat in the one case; of a legislative as- 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

sembly across the ocean in the other. This notion 
of individual liberty was necessarily exaggerated, 
because in itself so singularly attractive. Men in 
France, the colonies in America, were attracted by 
the notion of revolt against rule, for man is natur- 
ally indisposed to obedience and rebellious to rule. 
The innate tendency is to complete independence, to 
the assertion of unlimited right. The individual 
is willing, as a general rule, to have law and order, 
provided these are applied to compel others while 
not interfering with himself. 

The reform propaganda of the eighteenth cen- 
tury, which so speedily became a revolutionary 
propaganda on both sides of the Atlantic, was 
summed up in two famous instruments : the Declara- 
tion of Independence in 1776, and the Declaration of 
the Rights of Man in 1791, the latter condensing the 
principles and doctrines which, in 1789, had precipi- 
tated the Revolution. In both of these manifestos 
the importance of the individual is strongly brought 
out, and the very weight given to individual right 
led to an exaggerated and consequently erroneous 
interpretation of it — erroneous and incomplete, for 
while the greatest stress is laid upon the rights of 
man, of the individual, no mention is made of his 
duties, although there can exist no rights without 
corresponding duties. In the Declaration of In- 
dependence as in the Declaration of the Rights of 
Man it is quite plain that one side only of the ques- 
tion was considered by the framers of these cele- 
brated documents. That side is the side of the in- 
dividual and his rights ; these are admirably and 

34 



INDIVIDUALISM 

lucidly set forth in both documents. No one wants 
to part with one shred or tittle of these rights, but 
in this age, and especially in a democratic country 
such as Great Britain and yet more such as the 
United States, it is time some thought were bestowed 
upon the duties of the individual toward the state 
in which he dwells and under whose fostering care 
and protection he makes his living. 

It is just because in the eighteenth century the 
rights of the individual were scorned or denied that 
so much importance was attached to them. But 
what was appropriate then is no longer so. It is 
time, both in the United States and in our own land, 
to check the evils of democracy by recalling to 
men's minds that duties are inseparable from rights 
and must be fully discharged if the rights are to 
be fully enjoyed. 

The pernicious doctrine that the State must do 
everything for the individual, while the latter need 
only benefit and need not contribute, has been sedu- 
lously spread by demagogues and partisans of an- 
archy, of whom there is ever abundant supply in 
America, until the doctrine has so permeated the 
great body of the masses that it has become a char- 
acteristic of advanced democracy. 

That the individual should have an excellent 
opinion of himself is quite natural; very often he 
is his only admirer. So long as this personal wor- 
ship does not blind him to his duties and responsi- 
bilities to those around him, it is comparatively 
harmless, though always in danger of being ridicu- 
lous. Unfortunately for the individual, yet more 

35 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

unfortunately for the community, this tendency al- 
most invariably degenerates into narrowness and sel- 
fishness and leads to deliberate neglect of public 
duty. 

For in a democracy, everyone, from the highest to 
the lowest, shares — whether he understands it or 
not — in a common responsibility to the State. And* 
nothing can relieve him of that responsibility save 
absolute lunacy. Every member of the State is 
bound, by the very fact that he is a member of it, 
to devote part of his thoughts, part of his talent, 
part of his power, part of his time to interests other 
than his own personal preoccupations and purposes. 
He is false to the trust reposed in him by his fel- 
lows, fails to fulfill his share of the contract he 
has entered into, if he neglects his public duty. 

For every member of the commonwealth, whether 
born in it or entering into it as an immigrant 
naturalized in the country, binds himself to become 
interested in the working of the community, to share 
in its administration, to aid in carrying out its aims 
and plans. The State protects him in his life, his 
liberty, his pursuit of happiness and worldly pros- 
perity. It guarantees to him the free exercise of his 
abilities ; offers him possibilities of advancement ; af- 
fords him advantages which are important factors 
in his success ; adds to his personal value the worth 
of the community ; fulfills its duties toward him not 
perfunctorily or spasmodically but regularly and 
thoroughly. Therefore, the individual is bound to 
carry out with equal fidelity, with equal complete- 
ness, his part of the contract. 

36 



INDIVIDUALISM 

It Is this that is now beginning to be taught 
more generally in the United States. The schools 
now devote some effort to teaching the duties of 
citizenship to the children who a few years later 
will be called upon to discharge these duties ; the 
universities have enlarged their study and teaching 
of the topics of government and political and social 
economics. The press more and more preaches 
sound sense on these important questions and re- 
calls citizens to their duty as citizens. Which is not 
to say that the work of the schools, the universities 
and the press has borne or can bear fruit very 
quickly. Time is needed to make the system of 
civic education, which is of the highest importance 

I to a democracy, as strong and as widespread as it 
needs to be, but the progress is already considerable, 
and the revival of a true public spirit, of a genuine 
public opinion which is not simply swayed by the 

I professional politician but directed by sane think- 
ers, is at once remarkable and gratifying. 

Individualism is yet rampant, and in the next 
chapters it will be shown how greatly it yet affects 
law, religion and other aspects of the national life; 

\ but it is slowly being balanced and checked by the 
recognition of the need for an understanding and a 
due performance of the duties of the citizen. 

Individualism and materialism, carried to excess 
in the former case, have done much to harm prog- 
ress, but If the evils are plainly seen and felt, they 
are no longer permitted to rule at their pleasure. 
The country which has experienced the results of 
a startlingly rapid material development must neces- 

37 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

sarilj exhibit marks of the deleterious influences at 
work, of the loss of high ideals and the substitution 
in their place of aims infinitely lower, but it is also 
true that a profound change in public opinion is 
coming about. Impatience, irritation, are visible 
and these are healthful signs of the awakening of 
the national conscience. To suppose that so great 
a people as that of the United States can sink ir- 
retrievably in the slough of materialism is wilfully 
to shut one's eyes to facts. Not only is it not sink- 
ing farther ; it is resolutely bent on emerging. Daily 
the admiration for strong men of high principle 
grows and spreads, and that admiration is not con- 
fined to hysterical outbursts of cheering at banquets 
and meetings. It is manifested in acts as well as in 
words, and the people have made it plain that they 
do desire to be informed and led by men who 
are sincere and courageous, truthful and public- 
spirited. There will yet be undesirable, improper 
candidates for any and every office, from the highest 
to the lowest, but more righteous men are coming 
forward, more men able and willing to direct the 
fortunes of their State, of their country into the 
right channels. 

Men, in America, are perceiving, yet dimly it may 
be, but none the less perceiving the intimate con- 
nection between the individual and the nation ; learn- 
ing to rely less upon laws hastily drafted and passed 
to meet some emergency and more upon develop- 
ment of character and thorough grounding in the 
eternal principles of right and justice. They are 
learning to recognize that whatever makes the in- 

38 



INDIVIDUALISM 

div-'dual better tends at the same time to aid the 
race to which he belongs. It may be but a small in- 
fluence taken by itself, but in the aggregation of 
such influences they become a mighty force that is 
telling upon and uplifting the national hfe. 

And it is time that individualism should be sternly 
checked in its tendency to excess in every direction, 
and confined within those limits it ought never to 
have passed. For democracy can never produce all 
the good of which it is capable and which mankind 
has the right to expect from it, unless it proves bet- 
ter able to maintain the just equilibrium between 
the contending influences within it. In that equi- 
librium, not absolutely stable, doubtless, nor ever 
uninterfered with — it were hopeless to ask that — 
but nearly stable, rarely upset, society will find the 
solution of many of the problems which distress it 
at the present day, and the Old World will then 
learn from the New how government of the people 
by the people may be made to bring peace and or- 
der without interfering with the just rights of the 
individual or allowing these to infringe upon the 
equally just rights of society represented by the 
State. 

Precisely because the United States off'ers to 
every man such remarkable variety and freedom of 
opportunity, is it inexorably necessary that these 
opportunities should not be abused, that the power 
of the law should ever be maintained, that justice 
should not be thwarted by the influence of wealth 
or of political "pull," that the rivalry between labor 
and capital should be changed into a healthful co- 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

partnery, that the employer should not look upon 
the employed as a subject for exploitation to the 
verge of revolt, or the employed to consider the 
employer a being to be hated and attacked at every 
opportunity. There is too much of this state of 
feeling in the country; too much division where 
union should exist ; too much, therefore, of damaging 
of democracy for the effective working of a principle 
instinct with vitality and charged with good if 
rightly applied. 



IV 

MANNERS 

There is sordid dross mingled with the rich metal 
of democracy. The practical results of the appli- 
cation of democratic principles are not always pleas- 
ure; not seldom they are ojffensive, and, what is 
worse, needlessly offensive. 

AU men are not capable of estimating correctly 
the rights and privileges they enjoy or of recogniz- 
ing the responsibilities which right and privileges 
entail. Many of them are inclined to lay undue 
stress on the former and to refuse to assume the 
latter. That is because they are imperfectly edu- 
cated; because their perception is narrow, their 
range of reflection limited. They are intellectually 
below par; undeveloped; able to grasp a portion of 
a truth merely, and dwelling upon that to the ex- 
clusion of the greater part. This is visible in many 
ways in the democratic society of the United States. 
The fact is forced most unpleasantly upon the ob- 
server, even if he be but a casual traveler passing 
rapidly through the land. It is one of the chief 
reasons of the intense dislike which Americans have 
roused against their nationality. In this respect 
they have largely taken the place the English for- 

41 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

merly occupied. The cold indifference of the Eng- 
lishman, his well-nigh imperturbable coolness and 
self-possession, his rigid adherence to his habits and 
customs in whatever country and in whatever clime 
he found himself, his mode of transporting his lares 
et penates with him wherever he wandered or settled, 
his confident conviction of his indisputable superior- 
ity to the rest of mankind — the more offensive be- 
cause not expressed in so many words but plainly 
marked by a certain aloofness and coldness of man- 
ner — his resolute opposition to making himself ac- 
quainted with the language or manners or prejudices 
of the people whose lands he visited — these combined 
to cause him to be heartily disliked and even cor- 
dially hated by foreigners. He represented in mod- 
ern Europe the intensest form of that racial pe- 
culiarity which caused the Jews of old to be con- 
trary to all men. 

But since the Americans have taken to invading 
the continent of Europe in ever-increasing numbers, 
and to displaying certain national peculiarities with 
the fervid facility they possess in all things, they 
have rapidly supplanted the Englishman in this re- 
gard, and have inherited the greater share of the 
dislike and detestation which the inhabitants of 
**perfidious Albion" had won for themselves. The 
latter will no doubt not mourn over the change, but 
for those among them who bear sincere affection to- 
ward their cousins beyond the sea, the result is re- 
grettable. The American has so many good quali- 
ties that it is a pity he should make himself mis- 
understood and win abhorrence where he might so 



MANNERS 

easily secure cordiality. It is one of the conse- 
quences of his application of the democratic prin- 
ciple, and of his adaptation of the weaknesses of 
human nature to his own use and profit — but in this 
case, to his own disadvantage. 

Taken all round, the average American is man- 
nerless — a harsh saying, but a true one. The ameni- 
ties of life suffer rude shocks at his hands, and 
politeness is a rare and Httle practiced virtue. This 
is acknowledged and lamented by Americans them- 
selves, and is ascribed to various causes, one of 
which, frequently cited, is that they have not time to 
be civil, which is possibly the case, although civihty 
does not really absorb so much time that it may 
not be indulged in at least as an occasional luxury. 

But the real reason is different; lack of time is 
but an explanation put forward in lieu of a better, 
as most Americans do not trouble to reason out the 
why and wherefore of their actions in this respect. 
It is to be sought for in the working of a mistaken 
view of the principle of democracy, and in its ex- 
tension or development into intense selfishness, and 
consequent indifference to others. It is not true 
that Americans have not time for manners; they 
think they have not time because most of them are 
so intently occupied in pursuing their individual 
ends, yet there are great numbers of remarkably 
well-bred and well-mannered Americans, who, none 
the less, manage to succeed in the struggle for life 
and fortune. It is difficult to surpass a thoroughly 
well-bred American in charm of manner and address, 
in thoughtfulness for others, in purity of language. 

43 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

It is not, therefore, a racial defect properly speak- 
ing, but rather an indifference to the requirements 
of civilization and of rightly understood equality. 

The feeling, already dwelt upon, entertained by 
the average American, that he is as good as his 
neighbor, is at the root of the lack of manners. He 
desires to impress this upon everyone he comes in 
contact with. Then he is desperately anxious to 
maintain before the world at large the fact that he 
is a free man, in a sense and to an extent which is 
and must be unknown and unapproachable in any 
other country on the surface of the globe. Thirdly, 
he is individualistic, which tends rapidly to mean 
selfish and self-centered, and consequently he is apt 
to think of himself first, and has no leisure to think 
of others. Fourthly, as nearly everyone around him 
acts in precisely the same fashion, he does not see 
why he should change, and make an oddity of him- 
self. Add to this, that the democratic mingling of 
the classes brings to the front many an untutored 
man or woman, naturally ignorant of the elements 
of courtesy, and it is not difficult to understand how 
it comes that manners are conspicuous by their ab- 
sence in the daily intercourse of life. 

Not so many years ago it would have been un- 
necessary to comment on a similar deterioration in 
the manners of men in Great Britain. To-day one 
sees with regret that manners are fast disappearing. 
There is still abundant civility met with in the shops, 
in public establishments of all sorts, but the old 
courtesy toward the weaker sex has suffered seri- 
ous diminution. There is not the same attention paid 

44< 



MANNERS 

to it, and the young are the worst offenders in this 
respect. The schoolboy will sit placidly in a 
crowded car while gray-haired women stand. The 
workmen will yield his seat : the middle-class man will 
keep his. He is frank about it: he does not even 
pretend to be reading the paper or sleeping. He 
has shoved in ahead of the women and his greater 
physical strength is rewarded by comfort. Some 
there are who maintain the old and excellent code of 
conduct, but they are becoming fewer and fewer 
every day. The young generation scarcely ever 
dreams of exhibiting courtesy or ordinary civility. 

It is sometimes alleged that this changed attitude 
on the part of British men is due to the feminist 
movement, and especially to the excesses and out- 
rages of the militant section of the suffragettes. 
Unfortunately for the validity of this excuse, or ex- 
planation, the change in manners antedates the pub- 
lic disapproval of the militants. And it is plain that 
selfishness and a disregard of the amenities of life 
is the true motive. Henceforth we can scarcely be 
justified in reproaching Americans with lack of good 
manners. We are ourselves on the downward path. 

There is still another reason, which should be 
mentioned : the enormous influx of immigrants of all 
races and chiefly of the lower and more ignorant 
classes. The invasion of the Irish, the Spaniard, the 
Slav, the Scandinavian, the Teuton, counts for much 
in modifying conditions in this land. These people, 
most of them, come from countries where liberty is 
but a shadow and a name, and find themselves sud- 
denly transplanted into an atmosphere of freedom 

45 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

such as in their wildest imaginings they had no 
conception of. Accustomed in the land they have 
left to subserviency and servility, they begin by 
practicing the one and the other, but that does not 
last long. They observe with wonder and amaze- 
ment that it is only to the rich, to the very rich that 
such respect is paid, while to all others, well dressed 
or poorly habited, the same treatment is accorded, 
and that treatment is neglect of the forms of civil- 
ity. Amazement is succeeded by emulation, and the 
spirit of ^'liberty" moves them to assert their new- 
found freedom and equality by an exaggeration of 
rudeness. And as one meets every sort and condi- 
tion of man, woman and child in the daily affairs 
of life, one meets with these people who help to make 
worse the already bad condition of affairs. 

Excellent as is the democratic principle in its ap- 
plication to the general relations between citizens 
of the same state, it is indescribably disagreeable 
when it takes the form of a familiarity offensive 
in itself and yet more offensive in the assumption 
it entails that the person addressed is on the same 
level of indifference to decent amenities as the per- 
son who addresses. One can put up with a coai'se 
or rude individual, but one does object to being, by 
him, put into the class to which he belongs. And 
this is exactly the effect produced by the average 
American, where mannerless in his intercourse with 
people who know and practice the rules of ordinary 
civility. 

This familiarity it is which leads Tom, Dick and 
Harry to insist on shaking hands with whomsoever 

46 



MANNERS 

they approach, to talk in a tone of perfect intellec- 
tual and social equality, to air their own opinions 
whether asked for or not, to assume the welcome 
which is rarely theirs ; which makes the Irish servant 
girl dress as nearly as may be like her employer — 
the term "mistress" being an insult — which causes 
the negro porter to sprawl on the armchair you 
have vacated for a moment. 

This famiharity is in part the consequence of 
the misinterpretation of the democratic principle 
that the sovereignty resides in the people collec- 
tively. That is quite right; what is quite wrong is 
the way in which the fact is distorted in daily 
democracy, in which the individual believes, quite 
sincerely, that he is in his own person a sovereign, 
instead of an infinitesimal fraction of a sovereign 
body. 

Mr. Owen Wister, in that charming study of a 
rapidly passing phase of American civilization, 
"Lady Baltimore," makes one of his characters ex- 
press himself thus : "I observed that for myself I 
supposed I should rest content with the thought 
that in our enlightened Republic every American 
was himself a sovereign." 

And that the sarcasm is not uncalled for the epi- 
sode of the unionists in Chicago abundantly proves. 
It was at the time of the Jameson Raid, when a 
certain potentate sent a congratulatory message to 
President Kruger. As this message was calculated 
to exasperate Britons it naturally delighted the 
average Anglophobe in the United States, and among 
other expressions of satisfaction and joy was that 

47 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of a Chicago trade-union. The members deter- 
mined to congratulate the European potentate, and 
accordingly sent him a cable beginning thus: 

"To His Majesty 

"We, your fellow-sovereigns, members of 

Union, of Chicago, Illinois, in the United States of 
America etc., etc." 

It would surely have soothed any angry English- 
man to watch the reception of that message by the 
Illustrious Personage to whom it was addressed. 

Familiarity breeds contempt, but these exemplars 
of applied democracy are incapable of feeling con- 
tempt, and it would be wasted on them. Their mode 
of address denotes that they do not consider them- 
selves in any respect the inferiors of the greatest 
and most honored of the land. Since they are on 
the same footing as the most eminent — and they 
certainly are, in their own estimation — they are 
also on the same footing as the ordinary mortal, for 
whom, in consequence, they entertain no respect, 
and, as a further consequence, to whom they pay no 
civility. 

It is rare indeed to meet with even the outward 
appearance of manners in the stores. Purchasers 
relate to each other with awe how in one place they 
have been politely treated. The case is noteworthy 
and goes on record at once. But the ordinary 
"saleslady" or salesman does not concern himself or 
herself with formulas of politeness or marks of at- 
tention. You are simply a buyer, that is, in the 
average, a nuisance, to be disposed of as rapidly as 
possible. But, it should be said, the management, 

48 



MANNERS 

in many cases, is not satisfied with deploring this 
condition of affairs ; it endeavors to rectify it, bene- 
fiting; both customer and seller. 

In public offices, in public conveyances, rare is it 
to meet with the outward forms of civility. This 
does not mean that they are invariably wanting, but 
that they are not common. There are people who 
are naturally inclined to courtesy, and they are to 
be found in the United States as elsewhere, just as 
in every country, even in those where politeness has 
become a habit, there are to be met with rude and 
surly individuals. But the difference is that where- 
as in most other countries civility is the rule, in 
the United States it is the exception. 

Enter a building: someone else is just coming 
out. Naturally you expect he will prevent the door 
from slamming in your face, but you are in error; 
it is just what he does not do, and if you happen 
to be going out behind him the same thing will hap- 
pen. If, on the other hand, you hold the door open 
for man or woman, they will pass out and seldom, 
if ever, utter a word of thanks or make a gesture 
of acknowledgment. A man will pass in front of a 
woman, a youth in front of an older person, and 
neither will think for a second that they are doing 
anything out of the way. Politeness, in its most 
elementary form, appears to be considered servility, 
to which no free-born citizen can submit, or an ex- 
pression of inferiority, which can in no wise be 
tolerated. 

It is needless to enlarge on this unfortunate fea- 
ture of the habits and customs of Americans. Much 

49 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

might be written about it, yet in the end no good 
purpose would be served. Mannerless the great 
number of them are, and mannerless they will re- 
main, until successive generations shall have lost 
the habit of manifesting an independence no one 
contests by methods which have nothing to com- 
mend them. The boasted chivalry of American men 
toward women in general may then become visible 
in the particular; at present it is too often con- 
cealed. For chivalry consists not in simply work- 
ing in offices at the earning of money which the 
women may spend, but in treating them with due 
courtesy at all times, and this is not the case. 
Women are occasionally accorded ordinary civility ; 
more frequently they are made to feel that they 
have got to take the world as it comes. Of this 
also innumerable instances might be given, but one, 
related by Lowell, assuredly a credible witness, may 
suffice as a reference. And similar cases have come 
to the notice of everyone, American or foreigner, 
who has traveled in the cars, whether horse, trolley 
or steam. 

Again, applied democracy manifests itself dis- 
agreeably in the revolt against discipline on the part 
of children, both boys and girls, but especially 
boys. It is difficult, in many schools, to maintain 
the standard of discipline required for efficient 
teaching, because the spirit of independence is so 
strongly developed in the young, and at the earliest 
age, that they rebel against any application of au- 
thority. It is the tactful and masterful teacher 
who succeeds best, of course; the one who knows 

50 



MANNERS 

how to wear the velvet glove on the hand of Iron; 
but even he is bound to come to grief at some time 
or other, when faced by a determined individualist 
who is aware of the limitless natural rights of man, 
and who is convinced that his way is the right one 
and the teacher's the wrong. Obedience, for its 
own sake, and because of its value in developing the 
power to command, does not commend itself to the 
average American youth. And as he develops at 
the same time the lack of respect for position, as 
such, the task of the master or mistress is greatly 
aggravated. Resistance to authority not infre- 
quently takes the form of revolt, or strike. The 
young are quick to learn the methods employed by 
their elders, and a class or a school will imitate a 
union and refuse to study or even attend until the 
obnoxious teacher has been removed. The charging 
of teachers, in the courts, with assault, because they 
have been compelled to resort to corporal punish- 
ment, is also too frequent an occurrence. The 
teacher has to defend himself, and he is not always 
successful in convincing the tribunal that the course 
pursued by him was necessary. The triumph of the 
rebel in court naturally complicates the already 
great difficulty of managing the school. 

The army, at least the militia, finds the same re- 
sults cropping up now and then. Neither the land 
nor the sea service is really popular; men do not 
flock to it and inducements of various sorts have to 
be held out to them. They bring into the army or 
the navy ideas utterly opposed to that blind and 
prompt obedience which are essential to the proper 

51 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

carrying out of the duty of a ship or a regiment. 
They become good soldiers and good sailors but it is 
not without trouble. And there is always the chance 
that they will "break out in a new spot," as did the 
private who refused to attend divine service. 

It is not possible to conciliate true democracy, and 
especially democratic principles carried to their 
logical conclusion, with the requirements of military 
or naval service. The soldier and the sailor must 
be content, once they enlist, to abandon a portion 
of their cherished rights. And it would be a for- 
tunate thing for many schools and smaller colleges 
were the pupils in these institutions to conceive of 
the period of training and teaching as one in which 
it is for their truest advantage to learn to obey. 

But that is the hardest and most difficult thing the 
average American can be set to do. He entertains 
an apparently invincible repugnance to the observ- 
ance of anything that savors of authority, hence his 
disregard of law, and if law be disregarded, albeit 
intended for the protection of the community, it is 
not to be expected that any greater consideration 
will be vouchsafed to that unwritten code which 
regulates the private intercourse of well-bred per- 
sons. Nor, so long as in their own country they 
neglect, deliberately neglect, the simplest require- 
ments of courtesy, should surprise be felt at their 
ignoring the habits and customs of lands where 
politeness is part and parcel of the habits of the 
people. 

There is a class of Americans apt to become a 
stone of offense to those it comes in contact with 

52 



MANNERS 

in the course of foreign travel. Careless of the 
sanctity of privacy in their own surroundings, they 
are not prepared or willing to allow the Englishman 
or the Frenchman to enjoy it in peace in England 
or in France. They seem to consider that they have 
an indefeasible and inborn right to penetrate 
whithersoever their fancy dictates ; to ask the most 
leading questions ; to interfere with recommendation 
or direction ; to intrude their opinion, and to support 
it at times offensively. Unaccustomed to having 
their feelings consulted, they never dream of consult- 
ing the feelings of the inhabitants of the land they 
are visiting. At home they drive their automobiles 
with reckless and murderous speed through streets 
and avenues, amid crowded traffic and in narrow 
places, trusting to the power of their money to get 
them off in the event of their being arrested or sum- 
moned to court, and they cannot understand why 
they should not do exactly the same in one of the 
countries of effete Europe. At home they run down 
pedestrians and go on their way smelling to high 
heaven ; but they are indignant when, abroad, they 
are arrested and fined or imprisoned for an act that 
would not always cause them inconvenience at home. 
That type of American, when traveling abroad, is, 
too frequently, aggressive, self-assertive, convinced 
that he has a perfect right to do what he pleases, 
how he pleases and when he pleases. If he breaks 
rules and regulations, he considers that these may 
be needed for the slaves of the foreign power, but 
cannot possibly apply to a free-born citizen of the 
greatest country on earth, and if the authorities fail 

53 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

to take that view, he pesters his consul or ambas- 
sador with plaints and threats, until that unhappy 
official would, one may believe, willingly consent 
never again to behold in the flesh a single one of his 
fellow-countrymen. 

That type of vulgar American flaunts the wealth 
of his nation; talks continually of the vast extent 
of the country, of its illimitable resources, of its 
wondrous progress, of the amazing energy and start- 
ling qualities of its inhabitants. He sees little or 
nothing to admire in the ways of the Old World, but 
much to criticize sharply and roughly, although he 
himself is the most supersensitive creature when 
criticisKi is directed against him. In a word; he 
makes that numerous class of his countrymen and 
countrywomen, who worthily represent the culture 
and intelligence and charm of his race, blush with 
mortification as they view him making himself a 
spectacle for gods and men ; slandering his land and 
calling down upon himself the hearty, though per- 
haps unspoken, curses of all who, knowing the United 
States and their people, are exasperated at the dis- 
play of all the faults and the concealing of all the 
virtues and attractive qualities. If he be rich, he 
boasts and brags of his wealth; squanders money to 
prove the superiority of his fortune to the wretched 
pittances of the miscalled millionaires of the Old 
World ; if he be in moderate circumstances, he none 
the less affects the airs of the plutocrat, and dis- 
dains the modesty and thrift of the Englishman or 
the Frenchman. 

As for the customs of the country wherein he 
54. 



MANNERS 

disports himself, as for the manners of its inhabi- 
tants, these are merely pegs on which to hang com- 
parisons entirely unpleasant to the natives and satis- 
fying to his national pride. The institutions of the 
land, especially if that land be a monarchy, afford 
him a theme for endless disquisitions upon the per- 
fection of the Federal, State and municipal govern- 
ments in America, and the utter rottenness of mon- 
archies in general and modern sovereigns in par- 
ticular. Here is a verbatim report of a conversation 
which actually took place some years ago and which 
is a fair example of the sort of talk of which the 
traveling American of the ordinary class loves to 
indulge in. The scene was the dining-room of a 
boarding-house, patronized largely by Americans. 
The characters, a "lady" — from Philadelphia (that 
city of sweet homes and sweeter women) — and an 
Englishman, long a resident in the United States and 
well acquainted with the country. 

A young couple, American also, on their honey- 
moon trip, had been spending the day in sight-seeing, 
and to their great delight had caught a glimpse of 
the then Prince and Princess of Wales. To their 
great delight, for mauger republicanism and democ- 
racy, the average American is as fond of looking 
upon the face of royalty or of gazing open-mouthed 
at a lord as is our veriest Englishman. They were 
expressing their gratification and their intense wish 
to see also the well-beloved Queen Victoria. 

"Huh!" uttered in a sufficiently loud tone the 
"lady" from Philadelphia. "I would not turn round 
to look at her." 

55 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

"Why not?" exclaimed the bride. 

"Kings and queens are relics of barbarous 
tyranny." 

"But," ventured the Englishman, "you do not 
surely mean to imply that our Queen " 

"I despise queens," snorted the proud dame; "I 
belong to a land where we have no tyrants." 

"You interest me," returned the Englishman. 
"May I ask a question or two about your coun- 
try.?" 

"You may." 

"Your ruler " 

"We have no ruler." 

"Beg pardon. Your President, by whom is he 
chosen .''" 

"By the free and independent voters of Amer- 
ica." 

"Then what is the 'machine' I have heard spoken 
of in connection with presidential nominations.''" 

There was no answer, save a snifF and a snort. 

The Englishman went on: 

"Your cities are also governed by the people, act- 
ing as voters, are they not.''" 

"They are," was the proud response, "by the 
free and intelligent manhood of America." 

"And that is what is meant when your papers re- 
fer to Tammany in New York.^*" 

A glare alone replied. 

"Your states.'' Have you not a Matthew S. Quay 
and an Odell and a Hill as you have a Croker.''" 

"Sir, I decline to hold further conversation with 
you." 

56 



MANNERS 

And, as Corneille makes Rodrigue say, le combat 
cessa faute de combattants. 

It is almost impossible to convey to the foreigner, 
of education, that is, a true conception of the power 
of the democratic spirit in its action upon the minds 
of the masses. It goes without saying that the 
manifestations referred to, and of which an instance 
has just been given, are not met with among the 
educated and refined, but none the less, even among 
them the fervor of chauvinism, which is an enormous 
exaggeration of patriotism, is strikingly noticeable. 
"My country, right or wrong," is the inspiring mo- 
tive of the actions and words of many of them, 
and an inability to appreciate differences of condi- 
tions in other lands is frequent. Imbued profoundly 
with the conviction that an American citizen is not 
merely equal, but infinitely superior to the citizen of 
any other country, they act on that belief, and the 
result is not pleasant to the stranger they whelm 
with that declaration of supremacy. 

There is this difference between the Briton — an 
individual singularly led with a similar sense of su- 
periority over all other nationalities, — and the 
American, that the former is so absolutely sure of 
his ground, of his position, so convinced of the com- 
plete primacy of his nation, that he does not con- 
sider it worth while to express it, or assert it. It is a 
thing which is plainer than the nose on a man's face, 
than the light of day or the darkness of night. 
One does not go about affirming that light is light; 
no more does the Briton, therefore, proclaim to all 
and sundry that he is the salt of the earth. He is; 

57 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

that is self-evident. But the American, conscious of 
the greatness of his country, of its vast extent, of 
its prodigiously rapid development, aware, very well 
aware that the Republic of the United States offers 
a phenomenon undreamed of by writers upon govern- 
ment : an immense country successful under a purely 
democratic system — the American is impelled to 
shout aloud the fact, patent to him if to no one 
else, that he, and none else, is the greatest, most 
marvelous, most exalted product of humanity 
throughout the ages, and that his country is the 
most wonderful land in every respect that God's sun 
has ever shone upon or ever let light up. The 
knowledge he enjoys, the conviction with wliich he 
is possessed is not sufficient for him ; he must vocifer- 
ate it to all and sundry, he must affirm his superior- 
ity, else it might perchance pass unnoticed. But at 
bottom the motive is the same : the Briton, silent and 
reserved, and the American, pugnacious, aggressive 
and clamorous, are actuated by the same faith. 

And it is just this artlessness of the American 
character which, rightly understood, adds such a 
charm to intercourse with the inhabitants. After all 
it is wholly praiseworthy in them to be proud of 
their land, of their institutions, of their progress, 
of their wealth ; they err only in exaggerating that 
pride and its expression, and in doing so they are 
thoroughly human, which makes them thoroughly 
kin to all other nations. They are still in the stage 
of boastfulness, justifiable boastfulness, and they 
have not yet fully perceived the glorious insolence 
of the British method. They are doing what other 

58 



MANNERS 

nations have done before them: the British, the 
French, to name two only. The Germans are act- 
ing as the Americans act, yet httle is heard in re- 
proach of their brag, since brag that sort of thing 
is called. "Me und Gott" smns up the attitude of 
the whole German nation ; it called forth a brief out- 
burst of ridicule, and is almost forgotten now. But 
more forgotten still is the abundant proof that a 
precisely similar state of national vanity, expressing 
itself in just as extraordinary manner as among the 
Americans, has been characteristic of the British and 
the French alike. 

Take the latter. Their great poet, Victor Hugo, 
has sung the glories of France and the French in a 
dithyrambic style unsurpassed by the loftiest high- 
falutin' of the Americans. Here are some lines of 
his, written in 1823, ere even he has entered the 
Romanticist camp and given full sway to his lyri- 
cism : 

O Fran9ais ! des combats la palme vous decora: 
Quel aigle ne vainerait, arme de voire doufre? 
Et qui ne serait grand, du haut de vos pavois? 
L'etoile de Brennus luit encore sus vos tetes ; 
La victoire eut tou jours des Fran9ais a ses fetes. 
La paix du monde entier depend de leur repos. 

In another poem of the same period, he exclaims, 
with that assurance so delightful in hira as it is in 
everj'^one enthusiastically patriotic: 

Son genie, eclairant les trames, 

Luit comme la lampe aux sept flammes, 

Cachee aux temples du Jourdain; 

59 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

Gardien des trones qu'il releve. 
Son glaive est le celeste glaive 
Qui flamboie aux portes d'Eden ! 

Which is not bad, when one comes to think of it. 
And while Hugo was at that time a good Roman 
Catholic and a thoroughgoing Royalist, he main- 
tained his attitude as the singer of the glories of 
France when he became a Bonapartist and later a 
Republican. 

Oh! Paris est la cite mere! 
Paris est le lieu solennel 
Ou le tourbillon ephemere 
Tourne sur un centre eternel! 



Nul ne sait, question profonde, 
Ce que perdrait le bruit du monde 
Le jour ou Paris se tairait! 

And the French generally, the Parisians abso- 
lutely, believed it. Francisque Sarcey, in his fas- 
cinating account of the siege of Paris, speaking of 
the investment and its consequences to the inhabi- 
tants, saj'^s : 

"The absolute lack of news. Paris, whither 
tended all the rumors of the world and wliich re- 
turned them increased and multiplied as by some 
prodigious echo, suddenly found itself cut off from 
the rest of the universe. . . . We were much sur- 
prised and greatly disconcerted. The result sought 
and obtained by our foes went beyond anything we 
had foreseen. Our self-love was the first to suffer. 
We had so often said and repeated, in every possible 

60 



MANNERS 

way, that Paris was the great mainspring of human 
thought, that if it ceased to emit ideas and senti- 
ments the whole machinery of the universe would 
come to a standstill and that there would occur a 
prolonged collapse of civilization. We were com- 
pelled to acknowledge that, though we did occupy 
an important place in the world, we were not quite 
so much the very heart and soul of it as we had 
fancied, and that though Paris was severed from 
the nations, the earth none the less kept on revolv- 
ing round the sun, humanity continued none the less 
to think and act, to move on with equal step toward 
eternal progress. Most sad discovery! Bitter dis- 
illusion ! At need Europe and America could do 
without us, while we, on our part, missed the whole 
universe." 

And the following could scarcely be surpassed by 
the most excitable American orator on a Fourth of 
July: 

cette France feconde 
Qui fait, quand il lui plait, pour I'exemple du monde, 
Tenir un siecle dans un jour. 

By way, also, of testimony that self-praise is not 
inconsistent with depreciation of others, may be 
quoted the same poet's lines on America: 

gardez-vous, jeunes gens, 
Et de ce que I'Amerique en vos coeurs secoue, 
Peuple a peine essaye, nation de hasard. 
Sans tige, sans passe, sans histoire et sans art. 

The rhythm is admirable, the rhyme excellent, but 
the knowledge of America and the appreciation of 

61 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the land and its people leave everything to be de- 
sired. 

Naturally the Briton is not given to boastf ulness ; 
at least not to the sort of boastfulness which one 
finds in Victor Hugo and so many other French 
writers, and which filled the proclamations of the 
First Republic and the bulletins of Napoleon. Yet 
it is not difficult to find in, say, Shakespeare, cer- 
tain passages which, while superbly poetical and 
stirring, are perhaps not models of reserve and bash- 
fulness, as for instance this one, which sends the 
blood of the Englishman coursing faster through his 
veins : 

This royal throne o£ kings, this sceptr'd isle. 

This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, 

This other Eden, demi-paradise ; 

This fortress huilded by nature for herself 

Against infection and the hand of war; 

This happy breed of men, this little world. 

This precious stone set in the silver sea. 

Which serves it in the office of a wall. 

Or as a moat defensive to a house, 

Against the envy of less hap23ier lands; 

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, 

This nurse, this teeming womb of kings, 

Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, 

Renowned for their deeds as far from home. 

For Christian service and chivalry. 

As is the sepulcher in stubborn Jewry 

Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son. 

Or this estimate of the comparative worth and 
valor of the English and the French, which the great 
Nelson repeated and believed in: 

62 



MANNERS 

I thought upon one pair of English legs 
Did march three Frenchmen. 

And coming down to more modern times, is there 
not something exquisitely naive in the stanza from 
EHza Cook's "The Englishman"? 

There's a land that bears a world-known name, 

Though it is but a little spot ; 
I say 'tis first on the scroll of Fame, 

And who shall say it is not? 
Of the deathless ones who shine and live 

In Arms, in Arts, or Song; 
The brightest the whole wide world can give. 

To that little land belong. 
'Tis the star of the earth, deny it who can. 
The island home of an Englishman. 

Even in that strong and deep "Recessional" of 
Kipling's, the note of conscious power and unchal- 
lengeable superiority rings out clear and loud. 

The truth is that all lands which have brought 
forth nations of strength have given birth at the 
same time to ebullitions of patriotic fervor, and that 
the sense of power and success elicits dithyrambics. 
In France and in England these have usually taken 
the poetic form; in the United States, where poesy 
flourishes but scantily, sonorous prose is used for 
the same purpose, but the inspiration, the motive are 
alike in the Old World and the New: pride in the 
deeds done, in the obstacles overcome, in the con' 
quests accomplished. The American, because, first, 
he has not the true military spirit, and secondly, be- 
cause he has the true commercial spirit, celebrates 

63 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

preferably the achievements of industry and busi- 
ness, while the Frenchman and the Briton dwell with 
natural complacency upon their gloi'ious records of 
triumphs at sea and on land. But if the American 
had as long a miUtary and naval tradition as the 
Briton or the Gaul, he would sing exultantly of his 
prowess just as men of both these nations have done 
in the past and are entirely likely to do in the future. 

The isolation of the United States, its distance 
from the scene of the many conflicts which still rage 
in the Old World, combine to blind that portion of 
the people which does not reflect and does not ob- 
serve, to the importance of the sense of proportion 
and to the singular and valuable privileges enjoyed 
by the land. It is one thing to be divided, as the 
Britons of old, by the whole earth from the possible 
enemy; it is quite another thing to be in touch with 
a nation that at any moment may be an open foe. It 
is easy to become enthusiastic over a possible armed 
conflict, when it is quite certain that the quarrel will 
be fought out hundreds and maybe thousands of miles 
away. And when a country has not, within recent 
times, and since the advent of the most modern 
methods of warfare, fought a great war, it is not 
surprising that it should believe itself invincible. It 
probably is invincible, and that is sufficient for the 
self-glorificator, who flourishes so richly in the 
United States. 

Then the very growth of democracy encourages 
boastfulness. It must be borne in mind that the 
essence of democracy is the sharing in the govern- 
ment, in some way or other, by all the members of 

64i 



MANNERS 

the State; there is no division between them in this 
respect ; there is no class from which in particular or 
exclusively the governing body will be chosen. All 
men have the opportunity of rising, and directing 
affairs after they have risen. The youngster who 
howls the latest edition of a sensational sheet on 
the streets may, in the course of a few years, enter 
the aldermanic chamber, rise to the mayoralty, at- 
tain to Congress, be a Governor, or a candidate for 
the Presidential nomination. Or he may, in another 
field, become one of the leading financiers of the 
country, and from his office in Wall Street feel the 
pulse not of the markets of his country alone but 
of the world. Again, he may emerge from the ranks 
and appear as a captain of industry; he may direct 
thousands and thousands of workmen, an army of 
employees, a host of subordinates ; all that is within 
his grasp. He may prove to be an inventor, and a 
happy invention, well exploited, will bring him fame 
and wealth. All careers are open to him; all posi- 
tions, the most distinguished, the most attractive. 
The American lad has, of all lads on earth, the 
greatest chances of making his mark if there be in 
him the power of marking. And he speedily learns 
this, and once he has acquired the knowledge, once 
he has been trained, as he is early trained, to dwell 
upon the greatness of his birthright, he develops 
fatally the habit of talking about it, and in that 
strain of exaggeration which appears to come nat- 
urally to a certain type of American once he starts 
speaking about his country and the performances 
of himself and his fellow-countrymen. 

65 



PATRIOTISM 

There is a day dreaded by thousands, welcomed 
by hundreds of thousands in the United States: the 
Glorious Fourth. It is dedicated to the addition to 
the already innumerable noises which daily assault 
the ear, of yet more noises. The total effort, in- 
variably successful, is graced with the pompous term 
of Patriotism. The American is fervidly patriotic. 
The fieriest chauvin in France, the most energetic 
jingo in Britain is nothing in comparison with him. 
His patriotism is exuberant, aggressive, oppressive, 
overwhelming. He never hides its light under a 
bushel; he thrusts the flaming torch in the face of 
his fellow-countrymen and of the stranger within his 
gates. The entire world is required to know two 
things : that the United States is the greatest coun- 
try on God's earth, and that the American is the 
most patriotic of men. He is certainly the noisiest 
patriot in the world, although in the last five years 
he has greatly modified his exuberance. 

Here again the simile holds good: the people of 
the United States have still something of the boyish 
in them, else they could not delight, as they unques- 
tionably do, in the production of so much terrific 



PATRIOTISM 

noise as characterizes the celebration of the national 
festival. It would seem that by this time, when the 
Union is firmly established, when it has weathered 
storms that assailed it from without and from with- 
in, when it has definitely taken its place as one of 
the greatest of the world-powers, the exuberance 
natural in a very young and comparatively small na- 
tion would be replaced by a form of celebration more 
in accordance with the dignity, strength and might 
of the Union. But if there are few traditions in the 
United States, such as exist have a firm hold upon 
the popular mind, and the dreadful cracker, the ear- 
piercing fish-horn, the loaded and continually ex- 
ploding pistol are the emblems, the sacred marks of 
demonstrative patriotism. 

There is, it is true, an oration usually delivered 
upon that great day, but that is as a rule a rhetori- 
cal performance which attracts but little attention. 
The real celebration consists in the making of the 
utmost racket and in reveling in freedom from the 
inconvenient ordinances which, in ordinary times, 
seek to restrain the high spirits of an excitable 
population. That accidents are rife, that limbs are 
lost, lives sacrificed, men, women and children 
wounded and maimed, does not appear to strike the 
multitude as a regrettable feature, but rather as an 
additional joy. That the mode of celebration is, 
when looked at dispassionately, barbaric rather than 
appropriate, does not seem to enter into many minds. 
It is the tradition to make a noise, much noise, to 
drive a large part of the population of the cities into 
such wildernesses as are accessible, to reduce another 

67 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

part to nervous prostration, and to acclaim the 
whole business as patriotism. 

In this respect the Americans are not much worse 
than some of the Europeans are and more were not 
so long ago. Man is naturally a creature fond of 
noise : it is only the development of civilization, of 
refinement, which leads numbers of individuals to 
prefer quiet and peace to discord and clamor. Man 
in the state of boyhood finds peculiar joy in the 
production of the most horrible noises, and even 
when he emerges from that state into the next, he 
yet retains the fondness in an altered form. The 
firing of salutes, which thrills the old as it does the 
young, the ringing of church bells, the clangor of 
the brass band are but modified manifestations of 
that eager delight in din which is the special appan- 
age of the witless young and of the Americans on the 
Fourth of July. If only one remembers this, and 
takes care to escape to some lonely spot where the 
small boy is not, and the grown fool ceases from 
troubling, the Fourth of July in the United States 
can be spent in holy calm and pure meditation. But 
it is not well for the average man to remain within 
sound of the cities on that day. 

The meaning given to the word, the much abused 
word "patriotism," is rarely its real significance. 
The Americans have a great deal of real patriotism 
and along with it they have a great deal of the 
spurious article — spurious, or preferably inexact. 
They, and they are far from being alone in this, 
misapply the term, and call that patriotic which is 
merely exuberance or at times boastfulness or else 

68 



PATRIOTISM 

hysteria. There is nothing patriotic in setting off 
fireworks from four in the morning until midnight, 
in blowing on fish-horns, in sending up toy balloons, 
even in listening to an oration in which the speaker 
launches out into fulsome praise of the "peepul" 
and their high deeds. To call this patriotism is to 
indicate that the real sense of the word has not 
been grasped. Patriotism is quite another thing, 
and it does not manifest itself noisily, any more than 
heroism. 

But it is a peculiarity of the Americans that they 
extend the meaning of words until these lose their 
original meaning. Heroes abound in the country ; it 
is becoming a distinction not to be a hero, just as in 
France, some years ago, it was a distinction not to 
be adorned with the red ribbon of the Legion of 
Honor. Patriots are thick as blackberries, and the 
men and the women who, under normal conditions, 
would deserve the title are lost in the crowd, in the 
multitude of "patriots" who have won the cheap 
title. It is with them as with the French, with whom 
they have so many points of resemblance: words 
possess an elasticity of meaning which is surprising, 
and appellations of honor are not for the select 
few but for everyone. It is one of the "Rights of 
Man" to be a hero, if heroes there be; a patriot, if 
patriots are to gain recognition. Why not the 
first comer as well as his neighbor.'' Such is the 
reasoning, unconscious, it is true, of the ordinary 
individual, who would, none the less, insist that it is 
not his reasoning. Everyone has the same right to 
everything as everyone else, and if heroism and 

69 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

patriotism are being eulogized, everyone claims to 
be praised. 

The fact is that the word patriotism — so noble 
and so much abused — means, in the vast majority of 
cases, the right to do whatever one pleases, under 
color of celebrating. The terrifying of horses and 
dogs, the torturing of sick and whole, the destruc- 
tion of property, the wanton disregard of life, all 
this is described as patriotism, while in reality it is 
nothing more than the gratifying of certain tenden- 
cies of the human race. Yet no one would be more 
surprised to have the true view of this so-called 
"patriotism" placed before them than the leaders in 
celebrations : the mayors of cities, for instance, and 
their boards of aldermen and their common councils. 
They would express, less grimly, of course, their in- 
dignation and amazement as did that septembriseur 
who, being reproached with the massacre of some 
women, replied : "But I am a patriot !" 

It does not enter into the heads of the masses tliat 
patriotism means love of the fatherland, and a love 
which manifests itself by self-sacrifice and not at all 
by self-gratification. That it is not in the United 
States only that the meaning of the word is mis- 
apprehended does not help matters in the least : in a 
democracy it is important, it is essential, that the 
meaning of words and things should be clearly and 
thoroughly understood. A man is not in the least 
degree patriotic because he attends a banquet, eats 
a good dinner and shouts himself hoarse when the 
toast of his country is proposed. That is no more 
than a proof that he is enjoying himself and feeling 

70 



PATRIOTISM 

enthusiastic. He does nothing for his country by 
drinking a bumper of champagne and roaring his 
country's national anthem. His nation and his na- 
tion's ideals are not in the smallest degree helped on 
by his burning quantities of fireworks upon a certain 
day in the year : he produces a pretty or a disturbing 
effect, but he is not therefore patriotic, and it is 
quite possible that were he invited to contribute to 
a fund for the relief of men who have fallen by the 
way in the service of the State, and make no fuss 
about it, that he would refuse. He would none the 
less be a patriot in his opinion : he celebrates ; he 
cheers at the right time ; he hangs a banner on his 
outward wall: these, to him, are the tokens and 
testimonies of patriotism. 

But then it would be desirable to invent a new 
word to describe the real thing, and as that word 
would itself soon be misapplied, it is best to teach 
the multitudes what true patriotism is and the press 
the advantage of not bestowing the title of patriot 
and hero promiscuously. A man may love his coun- 
try, and at the same time be quite unprepared to 
sacrifice himself for it. There are thousands like 
that in every land. They are not braggarts, they 
are not boasters, they are not hypocrites ; they are 
ordinary men, decent, honorable, sincere; but they 
are not of genuine patriotic metal. They are not 
of the sort that walks quietly to the work to be done, 
at their own expense — either of money or life or 
anything else that is valued. They find many rea- 
sons for not subscribing to funds, or subscribing in- 
finitely less than they can well afford to do. They 

71 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

want to manifest their national enthusiasm and love 
of country only when it is not costly to do so. 
Sacrifice they neither desire nor understand. And 
therefore they neither understand nor will ever un- 
derstand true patriotism. They will read the life 
of George Washington and miss — no matter how 
often they peruse the story — the significance of 
that high patriotism which he exhibited. They will 
read the life of Lincoln, and never suspect what it 
was that made him a great patriot. They will read 
of Paul Jones and never perceive that it was not 
his fighting the Serapis and taking her that made 
him a patriot, but something else which it is needless 
to speak of since it is bound to remain concealed 
from them, even if explained. Just as there are num- 
berless beings on this earth who never did and never 
will understand poetry, music or art in any form, so 
there are thousands upon thousands who never will 
understand that the root and principle of patriotism 
is personal sacrifice, and not at all the mere doing of 
brave deeds. These are fine things, but they do not 
of themselves constitute a patriot. 

It would be a very interesting question to study: 
the effect of democracy, on the one hand, and of 
autocracy on the other, upon the fostering of the 
virtue of patriotism. When the devotion to Mikado 
and country exhibited by the Japanese is remem- 
bered, the inclination to ascribe superior power to 
autocracy is strong. But when one studies Amer- 
ican life closely, it does seem that the democratic 
spirit is, after all, the more inspired and the more 
•fruitful. There is, in the United States, a great deal 

72 



PATRIOTISM 

of the most genuine and the most beautiful patriot- 
ism; precisely of that kind which the noisy devotee 
of celebration does not and cannot apprehend. He 
is the sort of man who shouts truculently: "My 
country right or wrong," and remains convinced 
that he is thereby proving the superiority of that 
country to all others. The real patriots repeat the 
cry, but with an important modification: "My 
country when right; and when wrong, to set her 
right." And to this purpose they bend their ef- 
forts, not spasmodically, but steadily, regularly, un- 
tiringly. They are the men and women who hesitate 
not to criticize and to condemn, in no carping spirit, 
but with the desire to improve. They are made to 
bear the brunt of frequent ridicule ; to suffer odium 
as un-American; to stand gibes and jeers from those 
whose ideas of patriotism are of the Chinese-cracker 
variety and jingo sort, but they maintain through 
good report and evil report their stand for truth, 
purity, honesty in the administration of the home 
and foreign affairs of the Great Republic. They 
are real patriots, because they sacrifice many a 
chance to win popularity at the expense of their con- 
victions, many an opportunity to make or conserve 
money; because they are content to lose friends, 
even, if the loss to themselves is compensated by gain 
to the Union. They have the interests of their 
country at heart, and they place these interests far 
and away above their own private desires. They 
make no great stir, excite no popular applause, win 
no plaudits from the press, but their work tells and 
their labor is beneficial. They are those who pre- 

73 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

serve the monuments of the past and strive energeti- 
cally against the overwhelming commercialism which 
would sweep away the very vestiges of the history 
of the land for the sake of a benefit to the more 
practical side of daiily life. 

For commercialism, the love of money, so wide- 
spread in the United States, is in rooted antagonism 
to patriotism. Commercialism understands sacrifice 
at the expense of others only and for its own benefit. 
It cares nothing for the teaching of history, for 
the memorials of bygone days, for the tale of hero- 
ism in past generations. All it sees, all it cares for 
is present advantage. It will destroy a time-hon- 
ored relic, absolutely priceless from the point of 
view of the lover of his country, because it stands 
in the way of an improvement: improvement being 
the satisfying of temporary convenience. It is the 
unswerving foe and the ever present enemy of the 
idea, and patriotism is idealism. It is practical, and 
there is nothing practical in the sacrifice of self for 
the sake of others, for the sake of one's fatherland, 
one's city. It is on the watch and active, and it 
commends itself to the majority of the pubhc. 

It is difficult to make the major portion of the 
public understand that the historical monuments of 
any country do not belong exclusively to that coun- 
try, but are a part of the heritage of the world at 
large, of humanity. For in so far as the history of a 
land is the record of the struggle for light, justice 
and freedom, in so far is it the common heritage of 
all nations which have struggled or will, in the fu- 
ture, struggle for these ideals. There speedily comes 

74 



i 



PATRIOTISM 

a time when the historical monuments of a land cease 
to be purely national and become universal; when 
they no longer recall bitterness and strife and hos- 
tility and anger, but the great motives which ac- 
tuated, albeit unconsciously, the opponents who 
fought each other. It is not quite a hundred years 
since Waterloo was fought, it is only a little over a 
hundred years since Nelson fell on the Victory^s deck 
at Trafalgar, shattering the plans of Napoleon and 
preparing the final disaster on the plateau of Mont 
Saint- Jean; yet neither Frenchman nor Englishman 
now looks back upon those two tremendous con- 
flicts as, on the one hand, defeats to be remembered 
with hatred of the victor, nor, on the other hand, 
as victories to be recalled with contempt for and 
detestation of the vanquished. Both nations remem- 
ber them rather as events in which the destinies of 
the world were changed, and in which they themselves 
were as pawns in the hands of a Higher Power. The 
battles in the Crimea have not prevented Frenchmen 
and Russians from being friends and alHes, and while 
these fights brought out the bravery of the former 
and the steadfastness of the latter, it is this memory, 
and not that of triumph or defeat, which survives at 
the present time. 

In other words, the conception of historical 
records and of patriotism differs in Europe and in 
the United States, where it is still too commonly 
the habit to use the memorials of long-past conflicts 
as a spur and a stimulus to international hatred. It 
is hopeless to expect the British, for instance, to 
maintain toward their kin in the United States an 

75 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

attitude of aloofness and dislike simply because 
George Washington, seconded by the people of the 
Thirteen Colonies, succeeded in separating those 
colonies from the Mother Country. But it is not 
difficult to maintain traditional abhorrence of Great 
Britain and her people among the dwellers in the 
United States, by continually presenting them as the 
inveterate foes of the nation and its liberties. There 
never was anything very inveterate in the feelings 
of the British toward the Americans and the vic- 
tories of the latter have left no soreness in English 
memories. Yet it is a fact that part of the patriotic 
idea, as manifested on nearly all occasions, consists, 
in the United States, in considering Britain as still 
the foe of the Union, and in taking it for granted 
that the sentiments of the end of the eighteenth cen- 
tury are the sentiments of the beginning of the 
twentieth. Nothing more erroneous can well be imag- 
ined, and nothing is more absurd than to suppose 
that the monuments which commemorate the great 
struggle for freedom are disagreeable to the English- 
man. Far from this, they possess a profound in- 
terest for him, and the fear of seeing them interfered 
with by the action of commercialism is as strong — 
possibly stronger — as in the breast of the most en- 
thusiastic American. He understands that these 
memories and the buildings and monuments which 
contain them are as sacred to him as to the people in 
whose land they exist; that the scenes of the con- 
flicts which ended in separation of the Motherland 
and the Colonies are as fraught with interest to him 
as to the most thorough descendant of the embattled 

76 



PATRIOTISM 

farmers. These things cease to be local and national 
and become universal. The struggle which ended in 
the establishment of the United States is one of the 
great events of world-history, and all that is con- 
nected with it is consequently of world interest. 

The Americans, however, are exhibiting in recent 
years a truer and higher perception of the impor- 
tance of real patriotic teaching than is to be found 
in England, for instance. Scarcely is there a school- 
room where the portrait of Washington is not to be 
seen. This trait is fine. It is right that the mem- 
ory of such a man, so wise, so prudent, so steadfast, 
so forgetful of self and so entirely devoted to his 
country's cause should be continually kept before 
the young. His example is inspiring; his life is 
fruitful of good. And when one reflects that what he 
strove for and accomplished was to benefit not his 
own beloved land alone but the wide world, the 
wisdom of the practice becomes yet more apparent. 
The plan of hoisting the national colors over every 
school, although not yet universal, is another excel- 
lent method of cultivating the patriotic sense in the 
young. The ceremonies which, in many cases, at- 
tend the hoisting of the colors, and which recall the 
beautiful order on board men-of-war at morn and 
eve, are such as to impress the youthful mind with 
the deep meaning of the flag, symbol of the nation 
in the United States as it is throughout the British 
Empire. Canada, progressive, alert, has also 
adopted a similar practice, but in Old England it- 
self it is the rare exception and not the rule. And 
this, spite of the fact that to every Briton the world 

77 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

over it is the Union Jack which is to him the emblem 
and visible representation of the country of which he 
is a citizen, and not, as Americans, even highly in- 
telligent Americans are apt to believe and say, the 
Sovereign. It is not attachment to an hereditary 
house which is the bond that holds together the Em- 
pire; that is an aid, but not an indispensable one. 
The real tie is the flag, that embodiment of mem- 
ories, glorious and immortal memories, which 
are the common heritage of all Britons. And 
it is the peculiar cult of the Stars and Stripes 
which is to be admired in America; the reverence, 
which it is sought, and on the whole very success- 
fully, to inspire in the breast of every resident in the 
land, for the national colors. It is this which may 
be copied with advantage by the Briton in his home- 
land, and the sooner the better. 

Most praiseworthy also are the continuous efforts 
of the many historical societies which devote them- 
selves to the preservation of the monuments that 
recall the past of the Republic. The spirit of these 
societies is daily becoming broader and more toler- 
ant. No longer is it with them a prerequisite that 
everything shall be made to tell against the country 
from which sprang the United States. They seek 
rather to bring to the light the truths of that strug- 
gle, truths obscured, as they inevitably are, by the 
fierce passions of the moment. And so with the 
tremendous Civil War, which desolated the land for 
years and left behind it so heavy a cloud of sadness 
and bitterness, now happily waning and vanishing, 
as the younger generation, untouched by the feelings 

78 



PATRIOTISM 

of that day, see on either side devotion and sacrifice 
and nobihty of character and generosity and cour- 
age, and perceive that the brotherhood of the race 
has been strengthened rather than weakened by the 
bloody contest, and that the principle fought for was 
indeed worth all that was given for it. It is in all 
these things that the conception of patriotism mani- 
fests itself and that the democracy shows itself able 
to develop the right understanding of it. 



VI 

NATURALIZATION 

It is not intended to discuss here the arguments 
for and against change of allegiance. The fact it- 
self, that men find it desirable, convenient or neces- 
sary to adopt a nationality different from that to 
which they were born, is indisputable. 

The question is one which, in the United States, 
has taken its place among regular subjects of conver- 
sation. In Great Britain and in the Britains beyond 
the Seas, naturalization is not a topic of absorbing 
interest. Foreigners change their nationality and be- 
come British subjects without exciting the least com- 
ment. Nobody troubles to ask them the reasons for 
the step they take; nobody has troubled to urge 
them to take it. 

There is for this a subtle reason, a cause which acts 
in other ways also with us British: the feeling that 
the grant of naturalization is a very high privilege, 
which it is. And being a privilege, a favor, it is to 
be sought, not proffered, and still less pressed upon 
the stranger within our gates. While it is true that 
American citizenship is prized, that the possession 
of it carries with it many advantages — a point 
speedily perceived by Turks and other infidels who 

80 



NATURALIZATION 

have made trouble for the American Government — 
none the less it has not yet attained to the imposing 
dignity now, and for so long, attached to the "I am 
a British citizen." It will do so, undoubtedly; it is 
every day approaching that level, but it has not yet 
attained it and cannot quite reach it while the ac- 
quisition of it is made so easy, the desire to obtain 
it so sedulously cultivated and what ought to be a 
rare and coveted privilege is made a matter of no 
particular worth, and, not infrequently, an obliga- 
tion and a burden. 

"I have been naturalized in this country," a rich 
Canadian said not long since. "That was because I 
found that if I would succeed in affairs I must be- 
come so, but once I have made my pile and return 
home, I shall throw off my Americanism like an old 
glove." 

There are very many Britons naturalized in the 
United States, and very many who have adopted 
their new nationality in all sincerity, but there are 
likewise very many on whom it sits but indifferently 
well, for it is the consequence, not of a hearty desire 
to be Americans, but of the supposed impossibility 
of succeeding in their business or their profession 
unless they change their allegiance. And a proof of 
the hollowness, if one may use so harsh a term, of 
their change of heart, is that it is among these forci- 
bly naturalized Britons that are to be found the most 
timid, the ones who most dread offending the extraor- 
dinarily acute sensibilities of the rampant Amer- 
ican. Aware that they are not to the manner born, 
they, like most perverts — the word being used in its 

81 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

strictly etymological sense, out of deference to the 
aforesaid rampant American — exaggerate the need 
of being intensely patriotic, as patriotism is under- 
stood in this land, that is, intensely intolerant and, 
not infrequently, offensive. 

With regard to no other nationality is the urging 
to renounce allegiance to the Motherland so persist- 
ent and so frequent as it is with Britons. The Mayor 
of one of the great cities regularly attended, during 
his term of office, the banquets and annual reunions 
of the various British societies in his baihwick, and 
the unchanging theme of his remarks was the im- 
portance, as he viewed it, of every Briton who had 
not yet forsaken his allegiance to the British Sover- 
eign to do so at once and without any loss of time 
whatever. Nor was this entreaty the result of hos- 
tility to Great Britain. The particular Mayor in 
question, an upright and honorable merchant, was 
no fanatical hater of the Anglo-Saxon race, to 
which, indeed, he himself belonged. He merely shared 
the prevailing belief, the deep-seated conviction that 
there is no higher honor on God's earth than that of 
being an American, and this while he failed to per- 
ceive that his very urging, his very intensity of 
eagerness that his hearers should all pass over to his 
side, contributed largely to prevent the effect he was 
striving for. The American clubman — and the 
American club-woman also — understands human na- 
ture admirably, and takes care to have a long wait- 
ing list to stir up the envy of the candidates for 
admission. But that same clubman will unhesitat- 
ingly beg a foreigner, a Briton especially, to become 

82 



NATURALIZATION 

naturalized, while he would never dream of adopting 
the same line of conduct in respect to the member- 
ship of his club. In the one case he understands and 
acts upon the value of a privilege ; in the other, he 
destroys the efficacy of that bait. 

The power of assimilation is astonishingly marked 
in the United States ; the second generation of im- 
migrants, the sons and daughters of parents who 
landed in New York, or Boston, is fervently Amer- 
ican. The parents themselves, while often retaining 
a fondness for the land of their birth, a fondness 
due to pure sentimentality in most cases, are almost 
invariably enthusiastic citizens of their new coun- 
try. The German, the Dutch, the Frisian, the 
Dane, the Swede, the Norwegian, the Pole, the Lith- 
uanian, the Russian, the Jew, from whatever part 
of the universe he has come, the Slav, the Italian, 
the Spaniard, one and all turn American in ideals, 
instincts, manners and modes of thought, though 
necessarily retaining some of the traits of their own 
land. But they are Americans : they may celebrate 
some festival, the anniversary of the birth of their 
former ruler, the day held in honor in their far-off 
home place, but the Fourth of July is to them the 
greatest day in the whole calendar, and, if they 
happen to reside in New England, they add to it 
Patriots' Day and sing the heroic deeds of the men 
of Lexington and Concord. 

The Britons do not. Those of them who have re- 
nounced all fealty to their Sovereign and who are 
most resolute in fulfilling all that the spirit and 
the letter of the law demand of them, do not, 

83 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

for all that, become so thoroughly American as 
the immigrants from other lands. They fly the 
Stars and Stripes on national holidays ; they set 
off the universal fire-cracker, in deference to that 
Law of Noise which rules in the country; they 
watch and cheer the march of the procession, 
the tramp of the soldiery, but they are not, do 
what they will, quite the Simon Pure article. 
There is something of the old leaven left in them; 
the assimilation of the Briton is less complete, less 
thorough. 

Nor is the reason for this condition of things far 
to seek. The Briton has nothing to gain, save ma- 
terially, from changing his allegiance. Materially, 
of course, he may and he does benefit. If he have 
political ability and some ambition, he may attain 
more readily to influence and power in this land than 
in the old country. He can rise to any position in 
the political world save that of President. He does 
not need, as an indispensable preliminary, family in- 
fluence or great wealth. He may, by his own exer- 
tions and by his own tact, obtain the suff^rages of 
his fellow-voters. This means a good deal to men 
who, in the land of their birth, would strive in vain 
to enter the House of Commons. The multiplicity 
of governments — states without end, almost, — gives 
every man a chance. The Governors of States are 
of all nationalities; holders of high judicial offices — 
so many of wliich are elective — belong to a dozen 
diff'erent nationalities. Heads of great enterprises in 
the commercial and the industrial worlds are often 
men who have come from other lands. There is, 

84 



NATURALIZATION 

there can be no question of the great material ad- 
vantages of naturaKzation in this respect. 

But in other respects, these advantages do not 
exist for the Briton, while they are a main factor in 
the determination of immigrants of other races to 
become American citizens. The Spaniard, the 
Italian, the German, the Russian derive unquestion- 
able benefit from American citizenship, which gives 
them what they have not at all, or have not to any- 
thing like the same extent in their own land: free- 
dom, equality before the law, justice, often rough 
and uneven, yet justice on the whole, and, most 
prized by them, immunity from forced military ser- 
vice. They attain freedom of speech, freedom of 
conscience, of worship, of thought, of publicity. 
These are things which they appreciate. The Briton 
possesses them all, and some of them in a greater 
and more perfect degree than his American kinsman. 
He has naught to gain in this respect. 

Hence he is less amenable to the presentment of 
the advantage to be derived from changing from 
the Union Jack to the Stars and Stripes than is the 
newcomer from other lands, and unless some real 
material benefit is to be obtained, he is not inclined 
to renounce his Sovereign. Indeed, very often where 
such material advantage is within his reach, or 
where the simple process of naturalization would 
save him loss or damage, the Briton holds fast to his 
native land and prefers to forego what might profit 
him to parting with that sacred birthright. 

Nor is there any reason why he should. The 
ideals of the two races, the principles of their gov- 

85 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ernments, the purposes they seek to accomplish, the 
aims they endeavor to realize, are so similar that 
the Briton can further them equally well, while in the 
United States, without changing his nationality as 
by changing it. He does not become more public 
spirited, for public spirit is not as greatly developed 
in this land; he does not acquire greater respect for 
law, for, by common consent, respect for law is still 
the exception rather than the rule in the United 
States. He does not exchange his ideals for higher 
ones, for in practice the fulfilling of ideals is less 
persistently sought here. Thus he cannot improve 
himself morally by becoming an American citizen. 
What he is he has become through the home training 
and the home traditions. He is more likely, at pres- 
ent, at least, to lose instead of gaining. Why 
should he do so? If he is to be of further use to the 
people among whom his lot is cast, it can be only by 
strict adherence to the high principles which are 
avowedly at the base of British conceptions of public 
life. And the fact that a man can resist temptation 
of material improvement in his circumstances is in 
itself an object lesson worth giving. There is virtue 
in steadfastness, and when that steadfastness in- 
volves the voluntary sacrifice of opportunities to 
acquire wealth or power, it is worth imitating and 
it is always respectable. 

Leaving aside the Briton, what of the other 
nationalities which pour into the country in scores of 
thousands? It may be said without much fear of 
contradiction that for them the reasons in favor of 
naturalization are simply innumerable and over- 

86 



NATURALIZATION 

powering. There is scarcely one country which 
sends emigrants to the United States which can 
claim to offer to its subjects the large share of per- 
sonal liberty, the guarantee of freedom of thought 
and expression, the security against the burdens of 
compulsory military service, or the opportunities of 
advancement in every walk of life, which this land 
presents to great and small. It is a fact that in 
America, taking the name as applicable at present 
to the United States, Napoleon's famous remark, 
"La carriere ouverte aux talents,''^ is a real and solid 
truth, A man, if energetic, sober, trustworthy, per- 
severing, can surely succeed and rise in life with a 
rapidity and a certainty that are nowhere else to be 
obtained. And that this is no exaggeration, there 
are examples and to spare in proof. 

From every point of view, then, naturalization is, 
to the ordinary foreigner, a signal gain. It gives 
him a status such as he has never before enjoyed; it 
provides him with chances of success which have 
never been his ; it secures him in a way he has never 
enjoyed, and if he values highly being an American 
citizen, he is only estimating at its right worth what 
is a high and beneficial privilege. 

The power of assimilation of the United States is 
dwelt upon frequently by Americans themselves as 
an additional proof of the superiority of democracy. 
But there are plain limitations to the assimilation of 
certain of the races that furnish large contingents 
of immigrants. 

Even the passing visitor, if he reads the papers, 
will note the existence of what is called the British- 

87 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

American vote, the Irish- American vote, the German- 
American vote. It is difficult to conceive of anything 
more harmful, politically, than this. For in the 
event of some difficulty arising with Great Britain, 
with Germany, it is at once assumed that the British- 
American or the German-American will array him- 
self with the country of his birth against the land 
of his adoption. That is not in the least likely to 
be the case, for the man who has parted with his 
allegiance for the sake of some personal motive — 
a very excellent or a merely commercial one, as the 
case may be — is not the one to incur any risk for the 
sake of his former compatriots. 

But the existence of these bodies throughout the 
land shows two things : that assimilation is not 
nearly as thorough as it is claimed and that this 
class of citizens have an altogether wrong idea of 
the responsibility of naturalization. 

The Irish-Americans may be left out of considera- 
tion, for with them it is an article of faith that no 
matter how many generations there are between them 
and their ancestors who emigrated to the United 
States, Irish they are first and foremost and Amer- 
icans only afterward. 

But among the British who have become natural- 
ized, many, if not most, have changed their alle- 
giance from very sincere motives and have become 
true citizens of their new country. They differ from 
those piebald hybrids who one day prance through 
the streets under the Union Jack, in all the glory 
of uniforms of their own designing, and of rank 
of their own bestowal, but who on another oc- 

88 



NATURALIZATION 

casion are vociferating their devotion to Old 
Glory. 

Now it is certain that if anyone changes his na- 
tionality, he owes himself unrestrictedly to his new 
land, he ceases wholly to be aught but an American. 
For such an one to call himself a British-American 
is a misnomer: he has deliberately rejected Britain, 
and has no right to assume the name of British any 
more. When he talks of the British vote, he talks 
of what does not exist and cannot exist, for no 
Briton, not naturalized in America, can have a vote : 
he is an alien. And the parading of the so-called 
British vote is one of the surest modes of fostering 
the anti-British feeling which too readily comes to 
the surface in times of difference between the two 
countries. It is an offense alike to the country the 
man has renounced and to that he has adopted. 



VII 
DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

The people of the United States are not a military 
nation; they have no military spirit and no military 
ambition ; the bloody glories of war do not appeal 
to them; its pomp and circumstance have but slight 
eiFect upon them. This does not imply that Amer- 
icans are incapable of fighting, for the world knows 
very well that they can fight sturdily and success- 
fully. It does not mean that they lack military 
courage or endurance, for they possess both, and 
have proved it in the Indian wars, in the wars with 
England, in the terrible conflicts of the Civil War. 
It means simply that they have not the desire for 
military glory that has so long ruled in Europe, and 
still inspires more than one nation of the Old World. 

This is due to several causes. The first is that 
they have no tradition of war as a normal condition 
of society, as is the case with every European na- 
tion. As these slowly emerged out of the chaos pro- 
duced by the invasion of the Northern peoples, who 
overran the Roman Empire, the warrior became 
necessarily the central figure. It was not a case of 
individual prowess, but of combination, which pro- 
duced the feudal system, linking all men one to «.n- 

90 



DEMOCRACY AND MDLITARISM 

other. Men did not live in isolated families; they 
forgathered round the medieval fortresses and the 
abbeys which gave them protection. War was an 
everyday occurrence, and warlike qualities were con- 
sequently highly prized. The knight was the splen- 
did hero of the time. Round him clustered the tales 
of the fireside and the songs of the poets and wan- 
dering bards. And while slowly the state of contin- 
ual war was replaced by a happier condition of 
normal peace, the spirit which has so long inspired 
European nations lived and influenced the thoughts 
of men. Conquest still had its charms : peoples and 
nations were still viewed as the just booty of the 
stronger, and the rights of men were trampled under 
foot heedlessly, for they were not understood. The 
very French Revolution which changed the face of 
society was itself speedily mastered and tamed by a 
great warrior, the greatest captain of modern times, 
and the military spirit received a new lease of life 
thanks to the victories of Bonaparte. Even the na- 
tions which had already learned to value the advan- 
tages of peace, Great Britain first and foremost, 
found themselves compelled by the inordinate ambi- 
tion and restless energy of the great conqueror, to 
turn to their arms again, and to add to their al- 
ready brilliant record of deeds of valor new tri- 
umphs, and new glories. The seas were swept by the 
British fleets and the British cruisers, and the Em- 
pire of the Waves passed into the keeping of Albion. 
The later jealousies and rivalry of sovereigns, the 
new-born feeling of liberty, which the French had 
scattered wherever they stormed through the lands, 

91 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

brought about renewed conflicts and Europe re- 
mained one vast battleground on which contended 
rivals for supremacy. 

Very different was it in the new country across 
the wide Atlantic. There men had taken up arms 
only when, in the pursuit of that liberty the found- 
ers of the Union had learned in Old England, they 
found full self-government denied them. They did 
not fight for the mere pleasure of combat; they 
fought for a principle, and, having vindicated it, laid 
down the weapons with which they had won their 
cause. To them the first and chief purpose was not 
extension of territory by military measures, but the 
development of the land they possessed and the im- 
provement of the conditions under which they lived. 
Farmers had other things to think about than to 
earn glory on the tented field; fishermen, better oc- 
cupation than sinking each other's craft ; merchants, 
more profitable pursuits than destruction of the ne- 
cessities of life. War did not appeal to them in the 
abstract or the concrete. They were primarily and 
at bottom men of peace, who had recourse to their 
arms only for the protection of their homes. 

As the Union grew, as new territories were added 
and the ambitions of the young Republic increased, 
there were wars of extension, of conquest, but even 
these failed to rouse permanent enthusiasm or to 
awaken in the people that earnest military spirit so 
characteristic of most of the European nations. 
Nor did the War of 1812 rouse it permanently. 
The successes then scored gratified the nation, but 
did not induce it to abandon its policy of peaceful 

92 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

development for a career of strife. And the tre- 
mendous war for the preservation of the Union was 
not of a character to inspire men to become enthusi- 
astic over the slaying of their brethren. 

The steady immigration that aided to increase the 
population, the opening up of new territories, the 
discovery of illimitable sources of wealth ready to 
the hand, turned men's thoughts away from ideas of 
war and toward purposes of commerce, mining and 
manufacture. The making of fortunes was more 
tempting than the destroying of property and hu- 
man Hves, no matter how glorious these perform- 
ances might be made to appear. Even the victories 
won at sea failed to make a deep and lasting im- 
pression upon the popular mind. The navy had dis- 
tinguished itself, but it did not appeal to the people 
as it did and yet does in England. The army and 
the navy were not privileged services, and the mem- 
bers of either were not looked upon as exalted above 
the ordinary civilian. Indeed, as time went on, the 
tendency was rather to belittle these branches of the 
national service, and to look down upon those who 
devoted themselves to them. Nowadays, as has been 
said, the fact that a man holds a commission in the 
one or the other does by no means confer distinction 
upon him. Far otherwise is it in Europe. But that 
is because the tradition of the imperious need of the 
services of the soldier and the sailor, and his conse- 
quent supposed superiority to the civilian, especially 
to the civilian engaged in trade or commerce, swayed 
and sways the minds of Europeans, while it has never 
existed in the United States. 

93 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

Another cause is the feeHng, very widespread, that 
war is, on the whole, a ruinous business, even if one 
comes out victorious. There is far more common 
sense, in this respect, among Americans than the 
ordinary visitor would suppose. There is talk of 
war now and then; there are papers, of the yellow 
variety in particular, which endeavor to inflame 
popular passions and to create a longing for a 
fight with some nation or other. But the spirit of 
the people is antagonistic to war in itself, not, it 
must be repeated, through any lack of courage or 
capacity to fight hard and well, but simply because 
fighting for fighting's sake does not appeal to the 
sound sense of the nation. This was well seen at 
the time of the Venezuela incident. At first, the 
extraordinary and inflammatory proclamation of 
President Cleveland excited a burst of enthusiasm. 
The cry throughout the country was for immediate 
hostilities with Britain, and already men saw in 
fancy the enemy of 1776 and 1812 humbled to the 
dust. But with a speed that must have amazed 
those who were not acquainted with American 
"horse sense," things changed, and where there had 
been wild and hysterical clamor for instant death- 
grapple were heard protests against the needless 
shedding of blood, and declarations that better 
methods than war were extant for the settlement of 
international differences. And to this view the entire 
population rallied, with even greater spontaneity than 
it had responded to the presidential trumpet blast. 
This disposition of the American nation to prefer 
peace to war, to prefer arbitration to fighting, so 

94. 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

often unjustified, Is one of the great causes of its 
strength and influence in the councils of the world. 
It is also one of the greatest tributes to the value 
of democratic government, for the will of the people 
prevailed over the wish of the ruler. 

A third cause is the absence, from the cities and 
towns of the United States, of the uniform. It is a 
rare sight, comparatively. The regular army is 
small in numbers, and so long as danger was to be 
apprehended from the Redskins, the few troops, 
horse and foot, were stationed in far distant posts 
as are now the men of the Canadian Mounted Police. 
The navy, until recent years, was insignificant, and 
even after it had been increased and the most modern 
types of ships added to it, it failed to evoke any 
very warm enthusiasm. Along the shores of the 
Atlantic seaboard, men might behold these mighty 
engines of war and inspect them when anchored in 
their ports, but it does not appear that the naval 
service has become wildly popular in consequence. 
Indeed, it is in the main not the inhabitants of the 
seacoasts who furnish the greater number of naval 
recruits, but rather the inland states, where no bat- 
tleship or cruiser has ever been seen. 

This absence of the uniform in the daily life of 
the people, and the consequent absence of military 
or naval pageants whose very frequency, in the Old 
World, contributes to maintain the military spirit 
and to inflame the militar}'^ ardor of 3'outh, is a 
potent cause of the lack of the war spirit. The 
atmosphere in the cities and towns is commercial, in- 
dustrial, literary, political; it is not military at all. 

95 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

Young men do not dream of a career in the army 
or navy as the finest they can embrace ; business or 
the professions appeal to them far more strongly. 
They see everywhere around them testimony of suc- 
cess won along these lines ; they scarcely see any 
proof of success in fighting. So little, indeed, is the 
uniform a fetish, as it is in the Old World, that it 
fails to produce in the mind of the beholder that 
admiration or that awe which in Europe it almost 
invariably excites. If anything the wearing of uni- 
form is apt to stir ridicule and to call forth ungener- 
ous remarks about "fuss and feathers," or else it is a 
bar to admission to places of public amusement, a 
condition of things that would vastly astonish cer- 
tain military men in Europe. 

But the most important cause of all is, perhaps, 
the working of that consequence of the democratic 
principle: individualism. This is entirely opposed 
to discipline and unreasoning obedience, two essen- 
tials in matters military and naval. The average 
American neither understands nor cares to under- 
stand discipline and blind obedience. Every man 
tends to be a law unto himself, and whenever he 
comes into conflict with an established law, his imme- 
diate instinct is to avoid compliance with it. It has 
been said that the legal profession has largely 
adopted the practice of studying how best law can 
be turned and nullified. It is the outcome of the 
spirit here referred to, and which manifests itself 
among Americans as a disinclination to bind them- 
selves to absolute obedience. 

There are curious proofs of this to be constantly 
96 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

met with. The cadets on a training ship object to 
the food served out to them, and desert in a body. 
The action does not call out immediate condemna- 
tion, as a breach of discipline; on the contrary, all 
manner of explanations and excuses and reasons are 
put forward to justify an action utterly subversive 
of true discipline. A soldier refuses to attend church 
parade, and men are inclined to look favorably upon 
his objection, because the Constitution says some- 
thing about men not being compelled to follow any 
particular religion. At the time of the Spanish war 
the colonel of a regiment of volunteers, at Tampa, 
was compelled to address his men on the subject of 
looting the negroes' stalls and too free indulgence 
in drink. He ended by stating that the first of- 
fender thereafter would be severely punished, as it 
was his determination to enforce discipline in his 
command. "The hell you will!" was the audible 
comment made by one of the men, and he went un- 
rebuked. 

The public schools have, many of them, organized 
cadet battalions or companies, and there are private 
schools in which the wearing of the uniform is part 
of the regulations, but those sporadic attempts at 
militarizing the youth of the land fail of their pur- 
pose. They remain civilians after all, and turn 
their attention to civilian and not to military pur- 
suits. It is not too much to say that the captain 
of an athletic team is a far greater man, in the eyes 
of the American youth of his generation, than the 
most famous soldier or the most illustrious sailor who 
may be offered to his admiration. He would rather 

97 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

attain distinction on the football field or on the 
diamond than win epaulets. The one appeals to him 
directly ; the other very remotely. 

The American loves the spectacular; and he de- 
sires to have the spectacle in which he is a prominent 
figure beheld by a large concourse. The fighting in 
the Philippines was doubtless of a nature to train 
soldiers and to make officers reliable and steady, but 
it had to be carried on far away from all the sur- 
roundings and the cheering that the American youth 
adores. He does not crave to go thither, and if, in 
the course of his duty, he is sent to those remote 
colonial possessions, so little endeared yet to the 
national heart, he most naturally longs to return to 
his native land. He is brave, he is intelligent, he is 
independent in thought and in action; he makes a 
good soldier when he feels the wish to be a good 
soldier; and he makes a first-class sailor when the 
love of the sea has gripped him and makes him for- 
get much of his democracy, but he is not naturally 
borne toward the subjection of self which is a first 
indispensable step in the formation of the true mili- 
tary man, who must perforce learn to obey ere he 
can learn to command. 

Nor does the American at any age admire war in 
itself. Yellow papers may shriek themselves hoarse, 
as they did before the war with Spain, but they do 
not win over the solid part of the nation, the genuine 
Americans. War is not a pastime or a means of 
earning glory ; Sherman's famous dictum is too often 
quoted to permit of any illusion on the score of the 
beauties of war. War is destructive, and the Amer- 

98 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

ican is the opposite of a destroyer ; he loves to build 
up, to develop — and in this he shows his profound 
common sense; he is the truer and the greater civil- 
izer because of that fact. He seeks rather ways of 
attaining his ends which do not necessitate the em- 
ployment of brute force, and all war means that in 
the end. He strives to expand, not to diminish, and 
war diminishes the resources and the welfare of the 
nation. He will not shrink from or shirk it, if it be- 
comes inevitable, but he will not call for it with a 
light heart. There be, necessarily, some Americans 
who rejoice in any chance of a row with foreign 
countries, big or small, but these do not represent the 
true national spirit, which is distinctly peaceful. 
America has made her amazing progress not through 
fighting but through industr}'^ and education; it is 
not inclined to try other methods when the old ones 
have answered and still answer so well. The plow- 
share and the anvil come more readily to the hand 
of the inhabitant of the New World, and the Minute 
Man of 1776 is a true type of his descendants as he 
was of his contemporaries. Were the need to arise, 
thousands on thousands of young Americans would 
respond swiftly to the call to arms ; they did so at 
the time of the Spanish War, as they had done so 
before when the Union was threatened. But once the 
job finished, once the object attained, the soldier 
of days, or weeks, or months or years, returns to his 
civil occupations and la3's aside unregretfully rifle 
and sword. He is not a soldier first and a citizen 
afterward, but a citizen always ; prepared to serve 
his country, but opposed to forming part of a stand- 

99 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ing army and little inclined to man the fleet in time 
of peace. That preparation in piping times is the 
best guaranty of their continuance he hardly under- 
stands, and on the whole it is he that is right. His 
country, thanks to its position, thanks to the policy 
it has consistently pursued, can afford to keep out 
of the major number of rows, which continually 
threaten the peace of other parts of the world. Of 
late, it is true, the chances of being involved in diffi- 
culties abroad have grown with the growth of the 
land as a world-power, but the American is a firm be- 
liever in the virtues of arbitration and in the avoid- 
ance of unnecessary strife. Peace, if sought with 
steadfastness of purpose, can be had, on the whole, 
as readily as war, and peace is distinctly more favor- 
able to a country than turmoil and fighting. The 
spirit of the American is the spirit of peace, as be- 
comes the country which is one of the greatest on 
earth. The tone of the higher press, the tone of 
the men of influence when they speak, is not a war- 
like one, but the opposite. The yellow press delights 
in stirring up animosity, not so much because its 
directors desire quarreling and destruction, as be- 
cause they are keen business men who exploit the 
lower and lowest passions of their readers for their 
own personal advantage. They shout that the coun- 
try has been insulted, that the national honor has 
been smirched, that patriotism and a true under- 
standing of the greatness of the United States de- 
mand that such and such a country be instantly wiped 
off the face of the earth, but they do this, not be- 
cause they are naturally bloodthirsty, but simply 

100 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

because they will sell more copies of their abominable 
sheets. 

Again, the spirit of personal independence and 
the deep-rooted objection to restraint in any form 
militates against the development of the spirit which, 
in Europe, maintains the tradition of the superiority 
of the soldier and sailor, and inspires the youth at 
school with the longing to be a hero. Discipline is 
one of the most difficult things to attain with the 
average American: he is rebellious to it; he insists 
on having his own way just as much as he can; he 
has no innate, inbred respect for authority as such. 
The policeman on his beat, the teacher at his desk, 
the Governor in his Executive Chamber, the Presi- 
dent in the White House do not fill him with awe. 
These are mortals like unto himself, and, in a sense, 
under obligations to him since it is his vote, which, 
in some way, has given them the positions they hold. 
He made them and he can unmake them; he does 
unmake them, and throw them down from time to 
time. He does not entertain toward them the feeling 
of the European for the majesty of the institutions 
of his land, incarnate in the persons of leaders. He 
is himself the Sovereign, and he proposes on all occa- 
sions to maintain that sovereignty and all its attri- 
butes of irresistible power. 

He has his own ideas as to the way in which he 
should be treated, even if he has engaged to serve. 
The habits of criticism, of free expression of opinion 
do not fall from him like a cloak when he enters 
the service; he carefully retains them, and uses them 
on occasion. The sea lawyer who made trouble on 

101 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ships of old is a frequent figure at the present time, 
and the land lawyer is found quite as often in the 
ranks of the army. 

Add to this the disinclination of the people to 
any form of coercion, especially to military coercion, 
and the lack of military spirit ceases to astonish. 
During the troubles in the South of France a few 
years ago, the Government found it could not rely 
on certain regiments because the men in them were 
drawn from the population of the angered depart- 
ments. The soldiers fraternized with Albert's fol- 
lowers, and the officers were helpless. The same 
thing happened in the case of the Church 
troubles, and the same thing will happen when- 
ever soldiers of the army of the Republic are 
to be employed against their own countrymen. 
When the Empire flourished in France, Louis 
Napoleon was careful to remove the soldiers 
conscripted from a certain territory into another far 
away, so that the difficulty, palpable even then, 
might not arise. But all over the United States the 
feeling is the same, and it makes no difference where 
the men come from: they are all Americans and all 
are imbued with the same objection to military rule. 
Invite them to join a standing army, and the preju- 
dice against it breaks out ; call upon them to volun- 
teer for a foreign war, and the ranks are filled in a 
trice, for the love of adventure is still strong. But 
the love of service is absent. 

Finally, there is the difficulty which arises out of 
the mingling of races. Germans and Irish, good 
fighters both, are and remain primarily Germans and 

102 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

Irish, and are Americans only afterward. They al- 
ways speak of themselves as Irish-Americans and 
German-Americans. Their own nationality subsists 
untouched, practically, and they must be satisfied 
as Germans or Irish ere they will enter upon any 
enterprise. They regard themselves as a power in 
the land and with a certain amount of reason. Their 
vote is usually a solid vote, cast for the candidates 
of their choice. They, especially the Irish, are more 
disposed to require subserviency on the part of the 
whole nation than to exhibit it themselves. This 
complicates matters very much, when it comes to 
developing a strong military spirit that cannot brook 
interference in any form. An officer of rank, whose 
position enabled him to analyze the causes of the 
difficulties continually met with in the proper de- 
velopment of the army, speaking before the Military 
Service Institute, used these remarkable words : 

"Democracies, as a rule, represent peace. .They 
do not respond to the personal ambitions of an in- 
dividual, nor are they readily drawn into schemes 
for territorial aggrandizement involving war. . . . 
We are of sanguine temperament; we beheve in our 
star; we regard the law lightly; we place thousands 
of laws on the statute books, but are lax in enforcing 
them. These qualities in the military service make 
rigid discipline impossible. Deserters, sentinels 
asleep on post, and guerrillas should be shot, but 
with us the penalty is rarely exacted. Our patriot- 
ism is largely of the lip. That true patriotism which 
regards the country as the home to be cherished and 
protected within and from without, even at personal 

103 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

sacrifice, is not as common as it should be. It is 
constantly being diluted by the accession of for- 
eigners who are pleased to style themselves German- 
or Irish- Americans, as though they desired to serve 
two masters. These national characteristics, which 
become governmental ones in a democracy like ours, 
make it impossible to organize and discipline an 
effective army from the point of view of military ex- 
perts." 

This is perfectly true, and the somewhat pessimis- 
tic tone of the speaker is justified by the facts. But 
what do the facts prove .-^ Simply that the ideas and 
traditions of the Old World are incompatible with 
the exacting democratic principle. The Old World 
has lived with the military spirit for centuries, un- 
til it has become part and parcel of the life of the 
nations ; until even lovers of peace are ready to sub- 
scribe to the doctrine that one must always be ready 
for war, as in the days when no stay was to be had 
to the internecine carnage save when the Church in- 
tervened and proclaimed the truce of God; until 
statesmen hesitate to make a serious move toward 
diminution of armaments because of the outcry that 
at once arises, spite of the genuine desire of the 
taxpayer to be relieved of his crushing burden. In 
America, this is not the case ; men are accustomed to 
the ways of peace, and not to the habits of war ; they 
are trained from earliest childhood in the belief of 
their own sovereignty, and refuse to abdicate it on 
behalf of any man or set of men; they do not feel 
the pressing necessity of a huge navy or a multi- 
tudinous army, and throw all manner of obstacles in 

104 



DEMOCRACY AND MILITARISM 

the path of the military and naval enthusiasts. They 
are for peace, not for war ; for independence, not for 
discipline; they care not a fig for the ideas of 
Europe, and they are very keen on their own. They 
are a democratic community, democratic from its 
very birth, and not a democracy evolved from an au- 
tocracy in the course of centuries, and therefore 
retaining in many respects traditions and habits and 
beliefs which conflict with the fullest application 
of the principle of democracy itself. The rigid dis- 
cipline of Europe can never, so long as the United 
States follows out its appointed lines, become ac- 
cHmatized among the inhabitants of the Union. It 
is repugnant to them, contrary to all their inmost 
feelings, and destined not to lay hold of the popula- 
tion. The Americans may fight great wars yet, but 
they will not fight them as would European nations. 
They will have a way of their own, as they had at 
the time of the Civil War, and that way will be found 
satisfactory on the whole. And the war over, they 
will, in the future as in the past, return to their 
civil occupations and preoccupations, and work for 
industrial and commercial superiority. That is 
where they excel ; that is where their supremacy will 
most speedily assert itself, and who shall say, bearing 
goodwill toward men, that that is not after all the 
best course to pursue. 



VIII 
GOVERNMENT 

Has (democracy proved itself a sound principle of 
government or is it a failure? That is the question 
which interests many minds in the United States 
to-day, and to which different answers are given, 
according to the tendency of the inquirer. The pes- 
simist, and he exists in considerable numbers, is cer- 
tain that all the evils which force themselves upon 
public attention are due to the attempt to govern 
an immense territory and an ever-growing popula- 
tion by methods which are suitable in a confederacy 
like Switzerland, but which are totally inadequate 
in a republic as vast as the United States. The 
optimist, who is yet more numerous, and also more 
clamorous, is convinced that there is but little real 
evil, and that what there is will prove temporary. 

Yet some of the strongest advocates of democracy, 
who are optimistic enough to see in some of its dis- 
advantages incomparable benefits, are fain to confess 
that it has failed in some parts of the government; 
municipal government, to wit, which is bad as bad 
can be. 

Lincoln's celebrated definition, "a government of 
the people, by the people, for the people," may 

106 



GOVERNMENT 

soothe some troubled minds and lull the occasional 
disquietude of the man in the street, but it does not 
quite represent the existing conditions of democratic 
government, either in the Federal, the State or the 
municipal branch. It can scarcely be alleged, even 
by the optimist, that the government is "by the 
people," although, no doubt, the will of the people 
is supposed to prevail ultimately. And in some 
questions public opinion does at times assert itself. 
But the present tendency appears to be rather in the 
direction of the creation and maintenance of per- 
sonal rule; of the setting-up of a man here and a 
man there whose will becomes law and is obeyed, not 
without murmuring and opposition, but obeyed in 
the end. Politics has become a regular profession, 
a business to which some devote themselves exactly 
as others devote themselves to manufacturing or 
other occupation. It has turned into a trade with 
many, a lucrative trade in which plums abound for 
the man whose scruples form the lightest part of his 
moral burden. The great majority of the voters, in 
this country of universal suffrage, do not take the 
pains to inform themselves, to study the questions of 
the hour, to solve the problems which present diffi- 
culties. They are content, and this is true of many 
a well-educated man as of the more ignorant, to 
leave the direction and management of affairs to 
those who make it their business to settle these things 
— "for what there is in it for them," as the phrase 
goes. In principle democratic, the government of 
the country is largely autocratic by the consent of 
the governed. 

107 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

It is a curious commentary — the sarcasm of which 
seems to be hidden from the people — it is a curious 
commentary upon the democratic character of the 
Federal Government that for many years it allowed 
itself to be presided over by an official whose per- 
sonal power exceeded that of any constitutional 
sovereign; that the Congress was directed and 
administered by one man in the Senate and 
one man in the House of Representatives. A cer- 
tain senator was long known as "General Manager 
of the United States," and an autocratic Speaker of 
the House commonly referred to as "The Czar." 
Members of the House who refused to obey the dic- 
tates of that potentate were termed "insurgents," 
although an essential principle of democratic rep- 
resentation is that a man shall have the right to ex- 
press his opinions and to act in accordance with his 
convictions. 

"When men who oppose a law favored by the 
Speaker of the House and the President," declared a 
leading newspaper, "are classed as 'insurgents' it is 
plain that there is back of this characterization 
something unexpressed. There is a major premise 
implied which is not formulated. That premise can 
be nothing else than a declaration that the President 
and the Speaker of the House, separately or to- 
gether, have a right to dictate what laws shall be 
passed and what shall not. As a matter of fact, we 
know that for years the Committee on Rules has 
controlled legislation in the House. The majority 
of that committee is made up of the Speaker and 
two members selected by him, so that its decision is 

108 



GOVERNMENT 

really that of the Speaker himself. Thus the 
Speaker has controlled legislation so long that it has 
come to be thought, or at least pretended, that he 
has a right to embody in himself the whole law- 
making power of the House. It is admitted still 
that no decree of the Speaker has the force of law 
until it has received a majority of a quorum of 
the House. But the theory of the insurrection is 
that the Speaker has a right to command the votes 
of the members, at least the votes of such members 
as belong to his party. The party is supposed to 
make the Speaker not only the leader of his party, 
the mouthpiece of the majority, but the master, the 
dictator, who has a right to say how each individual 
member shall vote. The right of the President to 
dictate legislation, so long as he is in accord with 
the Speaker, need not come prominently into con- 
sideration. Should the Speaker differ from the 
President, which he is likely to do at times, there 
would be danger that the faithful would be troubled 
with a divided allegiance, and would be compelled 
to become insurgents against one or the other para- 
mount authority, thus illustrating the old scholastic 
puzzle of an irresistible force encountering an immov- 
able obstacle. In point of fact, there is no room in 
a republic for two paramount authorities, and it is 
worthy of attention whether there is room for one 
anywhere except in the concurrence of all the law- 
making powers under the requirements of the Federal 
Constitution." 

This comment suggests that the danger, almost 
inevitable in a democracy, of tyrannical rule has to be 

109 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

faced by the people of the United States, and, next, 
that the people themselves have yet to be educated 
to take an intelligent interest in the administration 
of their own affairs, if their government is to remain 
what Lincoln declared it to be. But it may be per- 
mitted to doubt whether aside from the best minds 
in the country, the best educated men in the various 
communities, the people generally understand that a 
democratic government is no more free from the pos- 
sibilities of autocracy, tyranny and corruption than 
any monarchial government that ever existed. It is 
with very many Americans of the present day as it 
was with the French at the time of the Revolution: 
they are apt to be blinded and deceived by words, not 
perceiving that names are but names, after all, and 
often conceal the absence of the thing they are sup- 
posed to represent. A republic may be and often 
is a pure tyranny; it may have and in the United 
States certainly has, the elements of autocracy and 
despotism in large measure, and this was clearly per- 
ceived by that patriot who said "Eternal vigilance is 
the price of liberty." But it is precisely that 
eternal vigilance which is lacking in the Americans. 
The illusion that because they are Americans, be- 
cause they possess a Constitution of which they are 
immeasurably proud, because they are wealthy, 
prosperous, because they are the greatest nation on 
earth, therefore they are safe from the dangers and 
evils which threaten other countries, that illusion 
leads very many of them to neglect their plain duty 
as citizens, and, joined to the universal desire for 
the possession and enjoyment of money and yet more 

110 



GOVERNMENT 

money, draws them away from that part of their 
functions which, as citizens of a democratic republic, 
is the most important and ought to have their chief 
consideration. 

They are not uninteUigent ; very far from it. It 
is not to be supposed for a moment that some fail to 
see that there are dangers, do not note the steady 
tendency toward autocracy, but they have faith in 
their fetish, democracy, exactly as we British have 
faith in our ability to "muddle through" the com- 
plications in which our lack of foresight and our 
neglect of experience land us continually. What is 
wanting in the United States is a more vigorous pub- 
lic spirit: that spirit which makes men interest 
themselves in the government, not simply by mildly 
or virulently criticizing it ; not by bewailing the fact 
that unworthy persons are too often enabled to cap- 
ture the popular vote ; not by lasting reproaches at 
the recalcitrant or lazy members of their party who 
have failed to come to the polls and have thus al- 
lowed the enemy to win the victory; not by reading 
the papers and languidly acquiescing in articles con- 
demnatory of corruption or misgovernment, but by 
taking hold themselves, by having a mind, a clear 
mind of their own on the subjects that come up, and 
the moral courage to stand up and fight for the 
right, no matter what others may say or do. The 
curse of the democracy is that the best men have 
often not the force of character needed to make 
them stand up against the degrading element, the 
corrupting faction. They hate the thought of soil- 
ing themselves with the pitch of politics, especially 

111 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of municipal politics. Thej prefer to suffer in their 
purses, in their sense of right, to putting their hand 
to the work and determinedly purifying and main- 
taining pure the administration of the city, the 
State or the Union. 

Too much preoccupied with the conduct of their 
private business they allow public business to fall 
frequently, far too frequently, into the hands of 
those who have not even the remotest conception 
of public spirit and public duty, but look upon the 
treasury, whether of the city, the State or the Na- 
tion, as a mine to be worked for their own personal 
profit. They suffer, and they know they suffer, in 
their purse, because the legislators seek ever more 
and more "pork," as it is elegantly termed, but it is 
less trouble to pay out money in this way than to 
take the time from the making of money to secure 
purity of goverament and uprightness in legisla- 
tion. 

It is not the people who rule in the United States ; 
at least the people rule but occasionally, spasmodi- 
cally; it is the bosses. These men, able and un- 
scrupulous — the latter they must be and the former 
they need to be — are the real governing body. They 
select the persons whom they choose to have put in 
office; they assign to each of them the position to 
which they are to be elected by the free and "inde- 
pendent"; they gather the funds required for the 
providing of the "free and independent" votes that 
are to secure success ; they direct the election ; they 
take care that no method, however ingenious, of 
depositing ballots shall prevent their learning 

112 



GOVERNMENT 

whether the voters have obeyed the orders given 
them; they have a hold on the elect, who owe their 
places to them, and they use that hold to further 
their own schemes. It happens, in some cases, that 
there is a revolt against their authority. Such 
small matters never worry them; they know the 
apathy of the voter in general ; they know how short- 
lived, as a rule, is the enthusiasm for reform, and 
how strong are the tendencies and inclinations not to 
bother with politics on the part of those who alone, 
by their education and their standing in the com- 
munity, can insure the permanent triumph of reform. 
They are not discouraged, for they are well aware 
that the wave of indignation is soon spent, and that 
once it has ebbed back they will come into their own 
again. For it is their own ; they look upon govern- 
ment, in any of its forms, and with its numerous de- 
partments, as their property. It is their own, for 
they have carefully, and with much thought, con- 
structed the ''machine" which grinds out candidates 
and elects them, and declares with pomp that once 
more has the Sovereign People spoken in its might. 
They thoroughly understand their business ; they are 
not amateurs, but professionals; they have studied 
the ins and outs of it ; they have proved its possi- 
bilities ; they understand the secret ways of the craft, 
and they are past masters in the art of fooling or 
overawing the people, as may be required. They 
are the natural, the logical result of democracy; 
the weed that attacks it; the poison that runs in it. 
They are the outcome of the system of universal 
suffrage, which is admirable in principle, and pretty 

113 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

bad in practice. Men need leaders ; that they know, 
as they know so much else. When leaders are offered 
them ready to hand, the people are apt to take them, 
without inquiring too particularly into their quali- 
fications. The moment the leaders are found to be 
unworthy they are not at once, as might be sup- 
posed, dismissed with contumely ; some are, and 
suffer for the sins of others as well as for their 
own ; but generally they continue to hold their posi- 
tions, and the laxity of public opinion is such that 
the chances are that at the very next election the 
very same men will once more be intrusted with 
power. 

The machine is not to be trifled with. All Amer- 
icans — they are never weary of proclaiming that — 
are free men, yet all Americans obey the orders of 
the machine with a docility that is amazing. At 
times they "revolt" and refuse to obey the behests 
of the bosses, but that phenomenon is never to be 
taken as a guaranty of future independence. As a 
rule, what the leaders of the party, of the State, of 
the city, of the ward or district say "goes" and the 
voter meekly deposits his ballot in accordance with 
the command he has received. 

Were the suffrage confined to the really educated 
class the greatest power of the machine would vanish. 
It is because suffrage is universal, because the ig- 
norant and the venal far outnumber the intelligent 
and the honorable that pohtics has fallen to so low 
an ebb in the United States. Education, of course, 
is the remedy; not only the common school educa- 
tion but that which the press, or part of it, is giving 

114i 



GOVERNMENT 

incessantl}' : education in the principles of true demo- 
cratic government; the education which admirable 
societies, organized for the purpose, are daily press- 
ing upon the constituencies, with some measure of 
success even now, and with promise of far larger re- 
sults in the course of a generation or two. Thanks 
to this propaganda there are very excellent men pre- 
senting themselves for Congress, and their influence 
tells, especially upon a people interested in public 
aff'airs to the extent, at least, of criticizing, if not 
of acting steadily and perseveringly. With the 
growth of genuine public spirit, which shall lead men 
of position and responsibility to assume the duties 
which naturally fall upon them, yet greater improve- 
ment will be manifest. The objection to politics at 
present is that scarcely will a decent man enter into 
it. But if decent men avoid practical politics, the 
inevitable result is that the undesirable class gets 
hold of it, and turns it into the slough of corruption 
which at this moment it largely is. Had Hercules 
felt the same repugnance at entering the task of 
cleaning the Augean stables, he would not have been 
the legendary hero so often sung. The best Amer- 
icans are none too good for the task of administer- 
ing the municipal, State and Federal affairs ; on the 
contrary, it is they who are bound by every consid- 
eration of duty, honor and patriotism to undertake 
the work, for it is they who best understand the 
magnitude and difficulty of making the great experi- 
ment of democracy successful when it is on the scale 
it exhibits in the United States. It is they who have 
the training and the education necessary to success, 

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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and because they have these, they have a responsibil- 
ity far greater than that which falls upon millions of 
their fellow-citizens, incapable, by reason of imper- 
fect political education and undeveloped or non- 
existent loftiness of thoughts and ideals, of guiding 
properly and safely the destinies of cities, States or 
the Nation. 

The Federal Government attracts some of the 
master men of the land, and happy is it for the 
country that it does so. More than one holding 
Cabinet office has willingly sacrificed private pros- 
pects to public duty. The spirit which animates 
these men is the spirit which makes democracy tri- 
umphant, and which gives the land good govern- 
ment. It is the spirit which should, but as a rule 
does not, inspire those who in State or city, ought 
to take upon themselves the burden of affairs. There 
are among those Cabinet officers men whom all the 
storm of abuse, invariably to be expected by those 
in high places, cannot swerve from their duty ; 
whom the revilings of the ignorant and the insults of 
the corrupt cannot move from their righteous pur- 
pose. And in the business world, in the literary 
world, in the professional circles, are very many 
more men of the same high order, but not yet ready, 
and certainly unwilling, to recognize the fact that 
every man in a democratic community owes himself 
to the community, is bound to discharge the duties 
of his station toward his fellows, and may not re- 
serve for his own private benefit and advantage those 
powers and qualities and talents he is endowed with, 
and which the community has in some measure, and 

116 



GOVERNMENT 

In some way or other, enabled him to develop and 
profit by. Pubhc spirit, the liighest and greatest form 
of public spirit, is the great need of men in the United 
States. They may shirk, as so many of them do, 
the work that lies before them, but they must learn 
the bitter lesson that the citizens of a democratic 
state who flinch from the fulfillment of their obliga- 
tions as citizens are themselves directly responsible 
for the corruption and the wrong-doing they bewail, 
for the deterioration of the sound principles which 
guided the founders of the Union, for the evil repu- 
tation which democratic government, in some of its 
manifestations, has earned for itself. They are 
their brothers' keepers in very sooth, and they can- 
not avoid the blame for the failure of a system ex- 
cellent in itself, based on justice and common sense, 
but which cannot work satisfactorily unless all who 
form part of it do their duty toward the common- 
wealth. 

It is idle to urge that politics takes too much 
valuable time ; that it is unpleasant and repulsive 
in many of its aspects ; that men are better engaged 
in developing the material resources of the com- 
munity. These things are true, in a measure. Poli- 
tics undoubtedly is often filthy business, but it is so 
only because the best men refrain from entering 
upon it, else it would be clean as is the conduct of 
their own affairs ; it is true that it takes much time, 
but that is particularly the case under present con- 
ditions, when men do in politics what they would 
never dream of allowing to be done in their homes 
or in their offices: permit corruption and evil to 

117 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

grow and accumulate until they become absolutely 
unbearable even to the easy-going people they are. 
Then they make a mighty, but brief effort, and 
having effected a partial cleansing, relapse into their 
former indifference. The "practical" politician, the 
professional boss, the systematic corruptionist, on 
the other hand, never relaxes his efforts, never 
wearies of the details to which he knows he must 
faithfully attend if he is to maintain his hold. He 
is continually at work, constantly on the watch, and 
it is this eternal vigilance which secures him the 
command. Something of this same effective method, 
applied to maintaining the interest of the better 
men in the affairs of the city or the State, would go 
far to redeem democratic government from the 
stigma which has too justly been put upon it, but, 
at present, the evil-doers, politically, are energetic, 
and the well-doers apathetic. 

Universal suffrage, granted as it is to thousands 
of men who have no proper conception of the duties 
of the citizen toward the State, has another fatal 
consequence: it makes the employee the master of 
the employer. This is self-evident in municipalities, 
where the servants of the city hold in their hands 
the fate of the administrators, and use that power, 
not for the advantage of the community, but for 
their own betterment. They are paid more highly, 
and they do less work than similar men in similar 
occupations not municipally controlled. And the 
fact that it is profitable to the laboring man, pos- 
sessed of a vote, to work for a municipality rather 
than for a firm, a company or a private individual, 

118 



GOVERNMENT 

has led to ever-increasing demands for the estabhsh- 
ment of municipal ownership of many of the cor- 
porations engaged in supplying towns and cities with 
Hght, transportation, or other conveniences. It is 
certain that municipal ownership in the democratic 
United States would mean waste of money and labor, 
and the greater spread of that deep corruption 
which is even now being fought by part of the press 
and part of the public. It would be difficult to 
point out a municipality administered entirely on 
sound economic principles ; there are a few like that, 
brilliant exceptions ; but they are very few indeed. 
In most cities and towns corruption is rife and per- 
sonal interests govern. The citizens know this, 
mourn over it, complain of it, and fold their arms 
in apathetic discontent. It is astonishing to see a 
community endure the mismanagement, prodigality 
and dishonesty which are termed municipal govern- 
ment, and make no effort worth the name to purify 
and reform the system. It is not an occasional up- 
rising that can effect permanent good, yet the in- 
telligence of the intelligent American seems inade- 
quate to grasp this patent fact. Men at the head 
of large industries, of a vast business, acknowledge 
frankly that the condition of things is as bad as it 
can be. But it is rare to find these men taking up the 
task of reform and sticking to it year after year. 
Philadelphia went in vigorously for reform, Boston 
became tremendously excited over it. New York 
"went for" Tammany with a whoop, and then, after 
a time, the same old business reappeared and men 
sighed and vowed it was useless to try to do more. 

119 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

It is the energetic perseverance, and the unceasing 
civic education which alone can be rehed upon to 
produce lasting results. Citizens of worth — and how 
many citizens of high worth there are in these munici- 
palities — men who are an honor to their land and 
their abiding place, must determine that among the 
duties of the position they occupy, one of the fore- 
most and most important is to maintain municipal 
government on a high plane of honesty and efficiency. 

For the municipality is a school from which poli- 
ticians, ambitious of entering a higher sphere, 
graduate. If the municipality is corrupt, what shall 
be expected of the State or the Nation.'* If the men 
who pass from the Council chamber to the halls of 
Congress have studied the art and science of "graft" 
and learned to practice it with success ; if such men 
become the representatives of the Republic, what 
shall be the character of that great Republic? And 
what will be, what is the effect upon the minds of 
the younger generation, ardent in its turn to attain 
to positions of trust and power.'' Will it enter on 
its career with a lofty sense of duty to city. State 
or Nation.? Or will it not rather adopt the base 
conception of politics, so widely prevalent at pres- 
ent, that it is a fat business for the wily and un- 
scrupulous man to take up? Will it not rather 
substitute for the discharge of public duty, the ideal, 
a low one assuredly, of personal advantage? 

No man ever lives unto himself alone, and in no 
case is that truer than in that of the citizen of a 
republic. Every citizen has a duty to his fellows, 
to the commonwealth, and that duty has to be per- 

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GOVERNMENT 

formed in every part of the administration. The 
more onerous the work, the more prepared for it 
must be the candidate who seeks the place. The 
more difficult the position, the more honorable must 
he be who is to fill it. This truth is one that needs 
to be driven home into the mind of every youth in 
America; drilled into him, burned into him. He 
must be taught from his earliest years that equality 
of opportunities, which is the slogan of the demo- 
cratic orator, involves inseparably equality of re- 
sponsibilities ; that he cannot shift to the shoulders 
of another the task which is his to fulfill; that he 
cannot stand aside from the strife and say he prefers 
to make money for himself and to secure a position 
in which he shall have neither care nor anxiety. 

The citizen of a democratic state cannot choose 
what he would and what he would not do with regard 
to public affairs. It is part and parcel of the birth- 
right of which he is proud that duty accompanies 
him from birth to the grave ; public duty, as well as 
private duty. He is bound by all he enjoys, by the 
freedom given him, by the justice meted out to him, 
by the opportunities of rising and proving his abili- 
ties, by the chances set before him of enriching him- 
self honorably; he is bound by all these things to 
give the best part of himself to his land and to its 
pure and just administration. That is why he is 
a member of a democratic commonwealth ; not mere- 
ly for selfish purposes, not merely for personal ad- 
vantage, but to contribute, to the utmost of his 
power, to the welfare, moral and material, political 
and social, of his fellow-citizens. The sovereignty 

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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of which he is apt to boast is illusory and degen- 
erates into tyranny if its responsibilities are evaded ; 
the liberty he claims to enjoy is vain if it be confined 
to himself. Selfishness and greed never made a na- 
tion great, and a great nation will become a small 
one, morally, if its people neglect to do that to 
which they are called. 

The fatal inclination to neglect the personal duty 
of the citizen leads infallibly to the destruction of 
the democracy. Even at this hour the tendency to 
extend the powers of the Federal Government, the 
already immense powers of the President, means 
naught else than the weakening of the democratic 
principle. It is in large measure a desire to shirk 
the responsibility of meeting difficulties and over- 
coming them; of avoiding problems the solution of 
which demands patience, application and intelligence ; 
the wish to be rid of what is uncomfortable and 
troublesome, all of which would be perfectly legiti- 
mate under an autocracy, where men are not per- 
mitted to share in the administration of public af- 
fairs, but which is singularly wrong in a common- 
wealth. It springs from a tendency to enjoy the 
advantages of democracy without bearing its bur- 
dens and responsibilities ; it is a selfish way of avoid- 
ing the unpleasant; and selfishness and disregard of 
responsibilities are two of the most dangerous ele- 
ments in the gradual destruction of a real democracy. 
The growth of the tendency means nothing else than 
the concurrent growth of autocratic government; 
and while it may seem to many that this is an exag- 
geration, but a little reflection, a little recollection, 

122 



GOVERNMENT 

will speedily show that it is no more than the simple 
truth. Leaders are vastly useful persons, so long 
as they are not permitted to become self-appointed 
dictators, and the people of the United States have 
already had experience enough of the facility with 
which such a result is brought about, and of the 
painful consequences to themselves of the domination 
of an individual, to be on their guard against pos- 
sible extension of the habit to the Federal Govern- 
ment. Having been ruled by a General Manager 
and a Czar, they ought to have learned that however 
excellent a man may be in the position he fills, how- 
ever able and disinterested, it is almost inevitable 
that with the growth of power the desire for more 
power should arise in him. And if it does not do so 
in one, it will very certainly in another. The French 
Republic, almost insanely democratic, was enslaved 
by Bonaparte. It is certain that the comparison 
between the France of the beginning of the past cen- 
tury and the United States of the present, is at 
least imperfect, yet there is an analogy in the two 
cases. France was and is a military nation, pro- 
foundly imbued with the spirit of discij)line and of 
obedience to the chief. The United States is not a 
military nation, and the people are by no means im- 
bued with the spirit of obedience to military leaders, 
but, on the other hand, they readily yield to political 
bosses; they are quick to abandon much of their 
power if only thereby they may be discharged of a 
part of their responsibilities, and in this lies the 
danger. It does not make much difference, in the 
long run, by what methods a nation loses its fulness 

123 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of independence and its self-reliance, and these 
methods may be political quite as well as military. 

Further, the growth of the tendency to paternal- 
ism in government, which quickly turns to tyranny, 
is dangerous because the government, in the end, is 
dependent, for the election of its head, upon the 
mass of the voters, and these being controlled by 
bosses, by corporations, by trusts, will give control 
to them over larger domains of public activity. Rife 
already are the complaints of the cruel oppression 
of the trusts, of the overbearing or insolent attitude 
of the heads of the great combinations, who direct 
affairs pretty much as they please, who condemn 
the people, despise the laws, and set at naught the 
processes of the courts. Worse would these be were 
the inclination indulged in to concentrate yet larger 
powers in one man's hands. The condition to which 
the House of Representatives was not long since 
reduced is itself an object lesson. That House, 
which, in theory should be representative, should 
examine carefully all legislation and guard the in- 
terests of the nation at large, degenerated, by com- 
mon consent, into an assembly which merely regis- 
tered such edicts as its Czar chose to permit. It 
grew to play the formal and impotent part of the 
old French parlements, which simply engrossed the 
laws ordered by the autocrat. This is neither demo- 
cratic nor healthful politically. 

Let it not be supposed that the peculiar dangers 
of such a situation are unperceived. They are not; 
only they are not sufficiently perceived by the masses, 
and the insidious character of the change which has 

124. 



GOVERNMENT 

taken place Is not sufficiently appreciated. There 
is nothing Hke trusting to words and phrases to 
blind oneself; and great reliance on words and 
phrases is rather characteristic of the Americans. 
The fact that their country bears the name of a Re- 
public seems to the vast majority an entirely suf- 
ficient safeguard against all possible political dan- 
gers — which it is not. We British once possessed 
far more of the reality of democracy, in matters 
political, in spite of appearances and names. The 
monarchy is far less powerful than the Presidency, 
and the House of Commons far more truly ruled the 
Empire than the House of Representatives the Re- 
public. That is because the people of Great Britain, 
high and low, rich and poor, have always taken a 
direct and personal interest in the conduct of affairs ; 
because they have always jealously guarded against 
an increase of power in any one branch of the Gov- 
ernment, and have successfully maintained that 
equilibrium between them which may chafe eager 
minds among statesmen and leaders, but which is 
a guaranty of safety for the body politic. It is 
more difficult perchance to accomplish this in a land 
like the United States, but who, believing in the 
adaptability and the value of the democratic prin- 
ciple, would consent to a confession of inability on 
the part of a democratic commonwealth to establish 
and maintain a pure government which should at the 
same time be a popular one.'' 

It may seem that the view here taken Is overpessi- 
mistic, and that the ideals set up are unattainable in 
everyday practice, but neither of these propositions 

125 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

is right. A cursory review of the conditions in the 
United States, of the legislation in Congress, of the 
fights between honest governors and corrupt legis- 
latures, of the subserviency of the electorate, of the 
boldness and effrontery of the controllers of the 
mighty trusts and railroad combinations, of the sus- 
ceptibility of so-called representatives to influences 
of the worst nature, is sufficient to justify the posi- 
tion here taken. On the other hand, a fairly inti- 
mate knowledge of the qualities of the average Amer- 
ican, of his capacity for intelligent management, of 
his clear-sightedness and his tenacity when he thinks 
it worth while to use these qualities, of his generally 
good education, of his pride in his country and its 
noblest institutions, equally justify the belief in him 
which, in its turn, justifies the conviction that the 
improvement already visible in public opinion, that 
the hope of reform are not the baseless fabric of a 
vision, but a right estimate of the future; of the 
immediate future, let it be. 

For throughout the land, in large cities and in 
small towns, in the great industrial states and in the 
smaller agricultural ones, there is everywhere a ris- 
ing tide of public opinion, inspired by able leaders, 
of purpose high and unselfish, patriots in the very 
best sense of the term, guided and enlightened by a 
press much of which is daily apprehending more 
fully the importance of its task in a great democracy. 
That public opinion will grow stronger day by day : 
the colleges, the universities are aiding to develop 
it; the American youth, than whom none better at 
bottom can be found anywhere on earth, is being 

126 



GOVERNMENT 

taught truer democratic doctrine and studying more 
and more to fit himself for the discharge of those im- 
portant duties which fall to the lot of the citizen. 
Societies and associations are formed in many cen- 
ters, with the avowed purpose of keeping watch upon 
the municipal governments and informing the con- 
stituencies of the character of the men who seek their 
votes. All these are not only signs of a better fu- 
ture for the democracy, but pledges that the care- 
lessness and neglect, the easy-going indifference and 
supineness which have marked, and still to a large 
extent mark, the attitude of the average American 
toward the questions of government, are not to be 
permitted to continue if honest effort can destroy 
them and replace them by intelligent and active in- 
terest in all matters pertaining to the welfare of 
the body politic. It is in the youth of the country 
that the hope for the future resides ; it is to the 
youth of the country that the land must look for 
redemption from the corrupt practices that have in- 
vaded all forms of the government, and the country 
will surely not look in vain. If the great military 
nations of Europe can even now inflame their peoples 
to war by recalling the glorious traditions of un- 
numbered victories, if the British lad craves the sea 
and its strife as his memory recalls the deeds of the 
Hawkes and the Drakes and the Ansons and the Nel- 
sons and the Collingwoods and the Rodne3"s and the 
Duncans, if the French youth is thrilled by recollec- 
tions of "all the glories of France" and the Napol- 
eonic epic, assuredly the Americr.n youth will not 
less warm to the task before him when he remembers 

127 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the Fathers of the Nation, and when the names of 
Washington and Hamilton and Lincoln and so many 
more call to him out of the past to perfect the work 
so weU begun by them ; by them, who set their coun- 
try above and before all, and who recked not of per- 
sonal advantage so long as they could secure national 
honor and national prosperity. 

Democracy is not on its trial, though it is cus- 
tomary to say so. Democracy is proved capable of 
promoting the happiness and welfare of the race. 
It is only when the principle is departed from, when 
it is set aside, that evil enters in. The essence of 
democracy is not now to be called in question. Men 
cannot deny its usefulness and its power; they may 
misapply it, but the moment they return to it democ- 
racy will again show its ability to secure all that 
is asked of it. It is not a passing form, an ephem- 
eral idea; it is the basis of the civilization of the 
future; it will take many generations to develop all 
the blessings it contains, but none may limit its 
beneficent action, none may say it will do this and 
no more, for as yet it has not essentially failed. It 
has been diverted, it has been swayed in part from 
its purpose ; let only that purpose be adhered to 
steadfastly, let its virtue be brought out and not 
poisoned by corruption, greed and selfishness, and 
democracy will emerge triumphant. It has in itself 
the happiness of many races yet unborn, and al- 
though it is foolishly applied to peoples unfitted for 
it at once, it is the true principle which must remain 
the abiding guide of the Anglo-Saxon in the Old 
World, of the Americans in the New. 

128 



I 



IX 

LAW 

One of the most striking features of modern 
American society is the general disregard of law, 
when the law conflicts with the wishes or the per- 
sonal advantages of the individual. 

American writers in the press and elsewhere have 
more than once drawn attention to this singular 
fact, although few, if any, have attempted to analyze 
it and to seek out its cause. Lawlessness, in the 
sense of violation, neglect, contempt or evasion of 
the law, is universal in the country, and is to be met 
with not alone among the criminal classes, which by 
their nature are in antagonism to law, but among the 
most educated and the most respectable classes of 
the community. 

It may be affirmed, without exaggeration, that 
the plutocrats accept the existence of the law only 
in so far as they can turn it to account in the execu- 
tion of their schemes. In such a case they are 
vigorous upholders of every part of it, and they 
exhibit an amazing capacity for discovering its pow- 
ers. But in the event of their becoming themselves 
amenable to the punishments the laws decree, they 
give proof of equal perspicacity in devising means 

129 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of escaping the consequences of their actions and 
in twisting the law into a defense and a justification 
for themselves. A Scripture text, it has often been 
said, may be found to support any proposition; 
similarly, the law, in the United States, can always 
be made to justify any violation of itself, provided a 
sufficient amount of money is at hand to defray the 
fees of counsel. 

The fact that not only the Federal Congress, but 
also each State legislature is empowered to make 
laws, that the procedure in one State is different 
from that in another, that crimes and misdemeanors 
are not treated everywhere in the same fashion, adds 
to the facilities for evading punishment, and these 
facilities are taken the fullest advantage of by the 
lawyers engaged to defend a case. 

Criminal cases exemplify this truth in a remark- 
able manner. The mere selection of a jury gives 
rise to protracted disputes and discussions, to chal- 
lenges of all sorts, peremptory and non-peremptory, 
to squabbles between counsel, to exceptions on 
points of law — for this is the main battleground of 
the contending parties — to objections on the score 
of intelligence, which is enlarged in its meaning to 
comprise the faintest approach to an opinion of one 
sort or other on the merits of the case to be tried. 
When at last, after days and frequently weeks of 
haggling and protesting, of challenging and cross- 
questioning, a jury is finally empaneled, the chances 
are a thousand to one that the simplest issue will be 
so deliberately befogged by the one side or the other, 
and perhaps by both, that even the most intelligent 

130 



LAW 

and most conscientious jury would find it impossible 
to have a clear mind on the question at issue. In- 
deed, the usual manner of conducting a criminal 
trial appears to be rather a test and a public ex- 
hibition of forensic skill and ability to raise techni- 
calities than a straightforward attempt to get at the 
truth or falsity of the charge. The prosecution and 
the defense equally strive to bewilder the minds of 
the jury with innumerable objections, discussed in 
the most heated manner; both seek to discredit the 
witnesses called by the other side, and manifest an 
ability in the way of moral torturing in comparison 
with which the old judicial torture of the body sinks 
into relative insignificance. Experts are called in 
numbers on behalf of the State or of the defense, and 
they contradict each other flatly with a calmness and 
an assurance that disgust the ordinary person, who 
has till then believed that an expert was one thor- 
oughly acquainted with the subject he professes to 
know. This is especially the case with experts in 
lunacy and in handwriting. Their contradictions 
and opposite assertions have, it may be said, been 
so frequent and so gross, that the public, at least, 
has lost all faith in the statements made by these 
gentry under oath. They are looked upon as men 
paid very large fees for the purpose of giving an 
opinion in favor of the side which pays them. It 
is doubtless an error to assume that all experts are 
thus minded, but the inference is inevitable when one 
follows the course of a criminal trial in which a rich 
man is the defendant or where there is "money to 
burn." 

131 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

The attitude of the counsel on either side is not 
more laudable. That the counsel for the defense 
should seek to break down the testimony of the wit- 
nesses for the prosecution is natural ; that the prose- 
cution should endeavor to destroy the value of the 
evidence given by the defense is intelligible. But 
that the main reliance should be placed on what, in 
the essence, is nothing more or less than hair-split- 
ting or pettifogging, is what fills the spectator, the 
lay spectator, with regret and sorrow. 

The purpose of the lawyer appears to be not the 
elucidation of the truth, but the obscuring of it and 
the appealing to all the intricacies of the law with 
the object of confusing the issue and preventing the 
jury from gaining or retaining a clear idea of the 
nature of the crime charged against the accused. 
Or else it is a deliberate endeavor to fasten the crime 
upon a person supposed to be innocent, by resort 
to every method permissible in court. And out of 
this conflict arise the innumerable "exceptions" 
without which any criminal trial in this country 
would, to the average legal mind, be a farce and an 
incomplete and shapeless performance. It is the 
lawyer who is on trial, not the defendant: he it is 
who figures before the public ; he who seeks to bring 
himself forward, to become notorious, to advertise 
himself and his extraordinary ability. The trial 
means much to him : it may, if he is successful, bring 
such rich reward in the shape of practice that he 
cannot afford to lose a single opportunity of exhib- 
iting his skill. Even if the verdict goes against 
him, he has gained what is so dear to his heart: 

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LAW 

notoriety, advertising free — his picture in the pa- 
pers, his title of Napoleon or Alexander or Demos- 
thenes, and Heaven knows what else. He has posed 
before millions of readers as a remarkable jurist — 
for the millions of readers do not trouble to look 
into the real meaning of the words used in the sen- 
sational scare-heads — and they have their reward. 
Justice itself has not been served; the law has not 
been vindicated, rather has it been brought into yet 
greater contempt, but what is that in comparison 
with the personal gain to the "able and talented 
lawyer".'' Law and justice exist merely as a means 
to an end, and that end is the personal advantage 
of the man who makes his living by pleading. 

Nor are the juries advantaged. The system of 
trial by jury has degenerated — almost into a farce. 
It is pretty surely a foregone conclusion that, in a 
case involving crime punishable by death, the jury 
will disagree, and it is also certain that the jury will 
tell, as soon as discharged, the reasons for its dis- 
agreement — the apparent reasons, for there are, 
it is said, in many a case, occult reasons which could 
not conveniently be stated to the representatives of 
the press. The best men, the most intelhgent, the 
most capable of weighing evidence and returning a 
just verdict are seldom or never to be found in the 
membership of a jury: first, because the best men 
are averse to the notoriety and unpleasantness of 
jury service, to the pillorying which is sure to fol- 
low, whether they condemn or acquit, to the certain 
or nearly certain long imprisonment they will have 
to endure while the opposing lawyers contend and 

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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

rage and vituperate, to the journalistic inquisition 
which invariably precedes and follows the trial and 
the selection of the jury, and secondly, because it is 
not the desire of the defense, in most cases, that the 
jury should be intelligent and able to form a just 
opinion of the truth of the evidence placed before 
it. The principle of protection to the prisoner has 
been applied in such strange fashion that it has be- 
come well-nigh impossible for an ordinarily intelli- 
gent person to be accepted. Objections the most 
fantastic are raised to this man or that, until finally 
a collection is got together which is least likely to 
render a sound judgment. 

Procrastination is the watchword of the lawyer. 
Every method by which he can postpone and delay 
the administration of the law it is his business to be 
acquainted with and to apply. Appeal follows ap- 
peal, exception is piled on exception, objection 
added to objection, ancient and forgotten statutes 
brought to light, novel interpretations insisted upon 
virulently, all with the one object of prolonging the 
fight — which, of course is highly profitable to the 
lawyer — and of winning the case eventually. The 
Greene and Gaynor suit is at once recalled as in 
point. The famous "Jarndyce versus Jarndyce" 
bids fair to be outclassed by this performance, in 
which the Federal Government is checked at every 
point by the skill and resourcefulness of the defend- 
ing counsel. And the Trust cases are further proof 
of the system in vogue in this country. 

The practice, growing more widespread and more 
pernicious every day, of the yellow press trying 

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LAW 

the case independently, adds to the contempt for 
law so generally and unconsciously entertained by 
the great bulk of the population. It is no longer 
left even to the "Napoleons of the bar" to win the 
laurels of subtlety: the journalist seeks to anticipate 
them and to seize the prize ere it be fairly set up for 
competition. The newspaper, with its corps of re- 
porters and space writers, enters boldly into the field 
and brings forward its own evidence, which meets 
with ready acceptance from the millions of readers, 
who are pleased to be thus enabled to form their 
judgment of the guilt or innocence of the accused 
long ere the law of the land has started on its 
devious course of unraveling the truth. This un- 
questionably adds to the difficulty of discovering a 
sufficient number of unprejudiced men to try the 
case, once it reaches that stage. It is impossible for 
most people to avoid forming a fairly clear idea of 
the guilt or innocence of the accused, when for 
days the newspaper has been placing evidence for 
and against in the columns which are headed with 
sensational statements certain to attract attention. 
And the fact of having formed an opinion, one way 
or the other, is of course fatal to the selection of a 
juror. But that is not of the least importance to the 
publisher of the yellow journal: what he cares for is 
to sell his paper, and if in doing so he runs contrary 
to all the principles of justice and equity, why, so 
much the worse for justice and equity. 

But this is not the only proof of the contempt for 
law which juries and lawyers exhibit, with such 
regularity and such calmness that not many can be 

135 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

met with who are shocked by it. Juries are notori- 
ously disinchned to convict. The clearest evidence, 
the most unchallenged testimony, does not appear to 
affect them. They will acquit where crime has been 
plainly proved. They will bring in a verdict glar- 
ingly in disaccord with the facts brought out. They 
are all powerful in this respect, and the court is 
helpless, even where the court is determined to have 
justice done. A case in point, among very many 
which will recur to anyone even cursorily perusing 
the accounts of the doings in the law courts, will 
suffice. A game warden came upon a man breaking 
the law by being out shooting on a Sunday. The 
offender resisted arrest and deliberately shot down 
the warden, the charge entering the man's chest. 
After a long period of illness the warden recovered. 
Meanwhile the offender had been arrested and a true 
bill found against him by the grand jury. The 
case came to trial; the evidence was so clear that 
not even the subtleties of the lawyer for the defense 
could cloud it. The man had shot to kill. The jury, 
after hearing the testimony, deliberated for a couple 
of hours and then returned a verdict of "Guilty of 
simple assault!" And this occurred not in the 
"wild and woolly West," but in a city of the Com- 
monwealth of Massachusetts, less than an hour from 
Boston. The judge was irritated, naturally enough 
at this perversion of the jury system, and de- 
clared the man ought to consider himself for- 
tunate that he was not charged with murder. It 
is entirely possible, however, that even had he been 
so charged, the jury would have acquitted him, on 

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LAW 

the ground, perchance, that game laws ought to 
have no place in the land of tlie free and the home 
of the brave. 

When the courts present such instances of the 
futility of appealing to justice, and enable the law 
to be set aside with impunity, it is not to be won- 
dered at that the general public takes no account of 
the law. And it does not, in any form whatever. 
Traffic regulations are notoriously disregarded: 
complaints to the effect are rife each year, but they 
produce no results, none that are visible to the im- 
partial observer, at all events. Each man does as he 
pleases, being a law unto himself. It is sufficient that 
a warning notice should be put up by authority, for- 
bidding the doing of such or such a thing, for that 
thing to be done at once. In the grounds of one 
of the great universities there are signs forbidding 
the riding on bicycles on the paths and walks. The 
signs are of no use in restraining bicyclists, who rush 
by them with the supreme contempt for authority 
which is so characteristic of the American. A 
building law is passed and is forthwith violated, and 
it takes years of disputations in the courts to en- 
force it. Orders are issued by the municipal or the 
police authorities intended to secure the cleanliness 
of the streets, and they are unheeded : nobody thinks 
it worth his or her while to pay attention to such 
matters. Ordinances, regulations, are merely safety 
valves for the exuberant energy of some clerk or 
other busybody and are not intended to be taken 
seriously. Then the Legislature is called upon to 
frame a further law compelling the enforcement of 

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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the existing law, and the enforcer of the non- 
enforced becomes a non-enforced in its turn. 

Laws of all sorts abound, but observance of law 
does not grow in like proportion ; rather does non- 
observance flourish. And many of the laws and 
regulations are apparently never intended to be ob- 
served at all; certainly they are ridiculous in them- 
selves and merit the disdain with which they are 
treated. A most respectable and intelligent body of 
men, the Park Commission of Boston, have had 
posted in every part of the wide and beautiful 
domain over which they have control, rules and 
regulations which are incredibly amusing in parts, 
as for instance the prohibition to speak in a loud 
voice, to whistle or to sing. It is entirely safe to 
say that not one person in ten thousand has ever 
looked at the pretty boards with their green posters, 
else the reg-ulation would long since have been modi- 
fied. 

It is forbidden, in many cities and towns, to 
offer for sale spirituous liquors of any kind, and the 
temperance people are usually keen to note infrac- 
tions of the law of local option. But the law, in 
municipalities of a high standing, is calmly broken 
day after day in the very sight of the authorities 
themselves. In more than one Country Club, situated 
in a no-license municipality, there is no concealment 
of the fact that all manner of liquors are sold 
openly to members and their guests. It is true that 
the face of the municipality is saved by omitting the 
word "Wines" on the bill and substituting for it the 
innocuous "Soda," but the hypocrisy of the change 

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LAW 

of wording in no wise diminishes the fact. And it 
is even more amazing to see, on certain occasions 
when the general public is admitted to the club 
grounds, the entrance to the bar, plainly visible to 
anyone, protected by a police constable, in the em- 
ploy of the very municipality which is appointed to 
administer the no-license law. 

Wherever the automobile has appeared — and 
where has it not appeared? — in the United States, 
death and wounds have accompanied it. This, how- 
ever, is by no means a necessary outcome of auto- 
mobihsm: it is simply another manifestation of dis- 
regard of law, for there is law, and plenty of it, to 
regulate the driving of these powerful machines. 
But there is a class of owners and chauffeurs, a 
large class it is to be feared, who apply in the 
pursuit of their sport the same indifference to the 
law and to the rights of the public which certain 
plutocrats apply to the conduct of their business. 
To them neither human life nor human rights are 
sacred or of the least consequence. They "own the 
earth" ; they are masters ; they are rich ; they are 
above the law, as were the kings of France in pre- 
revolutionary days. Fines are of no importance to 
them; regulations of no account. Fines they pay, 
when they are caught, and they do not feel them; 
regulations they rejoice to break, as they rejoice to 
break the bones of unfortunate pedestrians. And 
the courts too often, when cases are brought before 
them, deal leniently with these rich offenders, par- 
alyzing the efforts of the police to restrain them 
from further mischief. These things, which are 

139 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

done openly, bring law into greater and greater con- 
tempt. They are the outcome of that strong demo- 
cratic spirit, of that perverted idea of independence, 
of that false conception of sovereignty which per- 
vade the minds of most Americans. The teaching 
of Rousseau, albeit he is unknown by name to the 
great multitude, has sunk deep into the minds of the 
people on this continent. Yet Rousseau himself, 
could he observe the application of his principles, 
exaggerated as they are, would recoil with surprise, 
and perhaps regret, the vehemence of his propaganda. 
The unlimited rights of the individual are nowhere 
so ruthlessly enforced and at the same time nowhere 
so ruthlessly trampled upon, as in the United States. 
The tyranny of one man, against which the Thirteen 
Colonies revolted so justifiably, has been replaced 
by the tyranny of many men and many institutions. 
The Plutocrat, the Trust President, the Railway 
Magnate, the Coal Baron, the Ice Dealer, the Auto- 
mobile Fiend are a few of the despots who have re- 
placed the autocrats of the Old World in this coun- 
try of boasted liberty. The people feel the tyranny 
and cry out against it, but they appear powerless to 
check it, unable to prevent it, helpless to destroy it. 
In another chapter the question of the reckless 
disregard of human life is touched upon. In con- 
nection with this study of the disregard of law, of 
the use made of the technicalities of the law to pro- 
tect the wrong-doer, so long as he has money — that 
is the one great instrument of power in the land — 
it is not out of place to recall two or three instances 
particularly informing. 

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LAW 

On June 15, 1904, a New York excursion steamer, 
the General Slocum, licensed to carry twenty-five 
hundred passengers, started on a trip with thirteen 
hundred and fifty-eight persons on board, the 
greater number of them women and children, mem- 
bers of Saint Mark's Lutheran Church, bound on 
their annual picnic down Long Island Sound. The 
day was a lovely one, and the steamer sailed on with 
its band playing, past the wharves on the New York 
side. Fire broke out, and one thousand and twenty 
people lost their lives — the captain, however, and 
every member of the crew but one saving theirs. 
Five years later, not one had been punished for the 
slaughter of innocent beings ; president, secretary, 
directors, captain were equally safe from successful 
prosecution. It was proved that the law regarding 
the inspection of steamers had been systematically 
violated, that the regulations requiring certain pre- 
cautions to be taken had been ignored, yet no con- 
sequences followed so far as the responsible men 
were concerned. The law, which should have sum- 
marily dealt with them, was successfully employed 
to shield them. 

A writer in a magazine, a largely read one, said, 
in December of the same year: "Although the law 
requires a fire drill at least once a week, with a test 
of the hose and the lifeboats on every occasion, the 
Slocum had been sailing since the season began 
without putting water through her hose, without 
lowering a lifeboat, and without having a fire drill of 
any kind. . . . The law declares that no hay shall 
be carried on an excursion steamer, yet there were 

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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

seven barrels in the Slocum's storeroom, all of 
which contained more or less hay, used as a packing 
for glassware. Side by side with these stood three 
barrels of oil, and scattered about the floor were 
paint-pots, scraps of canvas, and other bonfire ma- 
terials. The door of the room was never locked. . . . 
The law requires that in every compartment in a 
steamer's hold there shall be a steam-valve, so that 
it can be flooded with steam in case of fire ; but 
there was no steam-valve in this dangerous store- 
room. ... A bill obtained by the coroner from 
the New York Belting and Packing Company showed 
that 'the new hose' of which the steamship company 
had boasted, had been bought for sixteen cents a 
foot. The cheapest garden hose costs more. For 
the hose now in use by the New York Fire Depart- 
ment a dollar and ten cents a foot is paid." 

The Iroquois Theater disaster, in Chicago, cost 
the lives of nearly seven hundred of the spectators 
in that fire-trap, but no one has been punished for 
the crime, and the law again was successfully turned 
to account to shield the responsible. 

But let not the hearts of those who love America 
be discouraged, and let them not be afraid. There 
is a very strong growth of sound public opinion on 
this subject as on many others which affect the very 
life of the people. The feeling that law is not to be 
used continually to shield the rich and the powerful 
is gaining greater vigor every day, and ere long it 
is certain to assert itself and to bring about a radical 
change in the attitude of the people themselves. 
Law will yet be vindicated, will yet be applied to its 

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LAW 

proper purpose: the protection of the innocent, the 
punishment of the wrong-doer. It will not come to 
pass in a day: there are too many traditions and 
habits and false views to be corrected, and, besides, 
a sweeping, violent reform effects no lasting good. 
The Americans, in their municipal and their national 
politics, have time and again indulged in spasms of 
reform. Tammany has been swept to ruin in New 
York, and Tammany has risen stronger for its tem- 
porary'^ defeat. It is not the outburst, fierce and 
sharp, which determines an improvement in moral 
conditions ; it is the steady education of the people, 
of all classes of the people, and that is going on, 
quietly, surely, in all parts of the land. The courts 
are helping: judges are raising their voices and 
speaking with all the authority which their position 
gives them ; the better part of the press — and there 
is a large "better part" — is awakening to the serious- 
ness of its educational mission and uttering words 
of warning that fall on no unheeding ears ; the pul- 
pit, although a comparatively weak power, is aiming 
to stir the minds of citizens to sober reflection; the 
great educational institutions are aiding in the good 
work, and more than all the sterling sound sense of 
the American race is being roused to action, to firm 
and inflexible action. Men are waking to their re- 
sponsibilities and duties, are realizing that they are 
not merely in the places they occupy to enrich them- 
selves, but are trustees for the fair name of their 
country and are charged to assist in bringing or- 
der out of the chaos of "graft" and corruption, which 
breeds the evils that are so patent and glaring. He 

143 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

who believes that the situation is a hopeless one, 
and that the democratic principle is incapable of 
coping with the mighty forces of evil at work, is 
short-sighted and himself unable to perceive the 
working of the national mind. There is absolutely 
no doubt of the capacity of the American people to 
vindicate the excellence of democracy; no doubt, if 
one studies closely the movement of thought, and 
its expression through channels that are becoming 
more numerous every day. 

The very fact that press and bench unite in urg- 
ing improvement and reform, that the demagogue 
himself, rising to a higher conception of his duty, 
proclaims the existence of evil and calls it evil in 
plain and unmistakable language, assures the much 
to be desired change in the attitude of the public. 
"One cause for this deplorable condition," — the in- 
crease of lawlessness — declares a leading newspaper 
of the West, "is the dull indifference of the people. 
They do not insist that the laws be enforced. . . . 
Another cause is to be found in our extremely low 
conception of the nature of the State. We look on 
it as an agency which, if not closely limited, will be 
used for preventing us from doing what we wish to 
do, and not as the embodiment of the law made by 
all and for all. So, when it intervenes to enforce the 
law, we hold the intervention to be against us, and 
not in behalf of the law. Is not this the mental 
attitude of most of us.^ . . . We try to use it, not 
for all of us, but for some of us." "We have 
grown," says a Southern paper, "so accustomed to 
the failure of justice in cases where human life is 



LAW 

taken by violence that we excuse one failure and an- 
other until it will become a habit, and the strong 
shall prevail over the weak, and the man who slays 
his brother shall be regarded as the incarnation of 
power." 

The judges are equally insistent and outspoken: 
"Justice delayed," has said Justice Brewer, "is often 
justice denied," and developing that text he shows 
that appeals on technicalities and the resultant de- 
lays tend to pervert justice, not to assure it, and 
that in consequence criminals become bolder and 
crime more frequent. A Chief Justice of the Su- 
preme Court of Delaware is just as explicit: "Law- 
lessness pervades the land. . . . Gigantic frauds are 
palmed upon the people as successful business enter- 
prises. Our greatest financiers are racking their 
brains to circumvent the law and the people, and 
by lawlessness achieve wealth, being careful only to 
keep outside of actual violence and the common 
jail. When their cunning evasions of the law 
are crowned with success all men are tempted to 
lawlessness." 

And Mr. Bryan, speaking to an assembly of law- 
yers in Chicago, at once gave expression to hope 
and to sorrow: *'I believe that the day will come 
in this country when we will not have so many men 
who sell their souls to make grand larceny possible. 
Perhaps sometime it will not be less disgraceful for 
a lawyer to assist in a gigantic robbery than for a 
highwayman to hold up and shoot the wayfarer. I 
know of a case recently in which they had to go to 
New York to get lawyers to represent the people be- 

145 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

cause all the lawyers available nearer at hand had 
been bought up." 

The first requisite for healing a disease — and law- 
lessness is a mortal one — is recognition of its exist- 
ence. Naturally people are indisposed to confess the 
failure, whether temporary or permanent, of a sys- 
tem in which they believe and unceasingly proclaim 
superior to all other forms hitherto known; but un- 
less they are willing to face the situation as it really 
exists, unless they are ready to probe mercilessly 
the plague spots in their administration and in their 
national life, that life cannot be healthy, that disease 
cannot be stayed and cured. The remedy lies close 
to the hand; it requires only to be applied, but first 
and foremost the mind of the nation must be edu- 
cated to perceive and to hate the evil ; the false ideas 
of personal independence, carried to the worst ex- 
tremes, must be shown to be utterly and glaringly 
wrong; the truth that men are united together in 
a commonwealth, not for individual purposes of self- 
aggrandisement or self-interest, but for mutual aid 
and protection, must first be instilled deep in the 
hearts of all the citizens, or at least of so large and 
influential a number of them that they shall swing 
the opinions of the remainder. This is being done; 
the process of education is going on steadily day 
by day and in every part of the land ; public opinion, 
weak as yet in most respects, is beginning to make 
itself heard, and it will be listened to ere many years 
be past. Men are learning what would seem to be a 
truism, that the law is not for the rich alone but for 
all, no matter what their worldly circumstances ; that 

146 



LAW 

it is in its essence a protection and not an instru- 
ment of coercion on the one hand or of evasion of 
duty on the other. In a democracy it is education 
which is the prime requisite, and education means not 
alone that mental training and that exercise of the 
memory which form the main purpose of the elemen- 
tary schools, but that clear understanding of the 
duty of the citizen toward the State, of the individual 
toward the community, of one man toward his neigh- 
bor. 

The United States started on its national life 
with advantages that no other nation on earth ever 
possessed; it was founded by men practiced in 
the knowledge and love of liberty, trained in the 
principles of common weal ; it was established by 
a race which possessed the highest form of civiliza- 
tion then known on earth, a civilization which has 
developed greatly since ; it was free from the 
trammels of long-established institutions and deep- 
rooted traditions ; it was in a position to face the 
problems of community and national life without the 
complications introduced into them by the slow evo- 
lution Europe had to pass through in emerging from 
the condition of the Middle Ages into the freer at- 
mosphere of modern times. And to suppose, even 
for the briefest instant, that a nation thus favored 
at its very outset, that a nation which has already 
given repeated proofs of its singular capacity for 
self-government and self-improvement ; that a people 
which has produced so many men of the highest type 
of moral elevation and strength, can possibly fail to 
throw off utterly and forever the evils which afflict 

14.7 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

it as an immediate result of the startling and rapid 
growth of its wealth, individual and national; to as- 
sert, to believe such a proposition, is to mark oneself 
incapable of apprehending plain truth, of seizing 
facts and of understanding that the grievous 
faults are but transitory and that the nation is 
sound at heart. 

No ; there can be no question of the ultimate out- 
come. The American is not corrupt in himself; he 
is not in favor of evil in national or private life. 
The splurge of the nowveau riche, the insolence of 
the magnate, the cruelty and indifference to suffer- 
ing of the plutocrat, the brazen twisting of the tech- 
nicalities of the law to serve private purposes, are 
not essential elements of the American character. 
No one who has had the good fortune to live among 
this people — not merely to rush through the land — 
no one who has had the opportunity of mingling with 
the business and the professional men, of talking 
with the better class of politicians, of meeting states- 
men, of conversing with thinkers and makers of 
opinion, no one who has seen and studied the Amer- 
ican at close quarters unaware that he was being 
observed, can by any stretch of possibility form any 
other conclusion than that the voices now heard so 
often and so loudly in their call for reform and 
improvement will not die away unheeded. The na- 
tion is a mighty one now; it will be mightier yet. 
"Great hast Thou made us ; make us greater yet," 
may as truly be said by the American as by the 
Briton. The same profound love of the pure in 
national and private life is characteristic of the one 

148 



LAW 

as of the other ; the same resolution to abide by high 
ideals ; the same determination not to lose all that 
the forefathers have won, but to add to it ; the same 
sense of honor; the same fearless courage in the 
discharge of duty. These noble qualities have been 
obscured for a time, are obscured even now, no 
doubt, but that they have disappeared, that the 
lust of gold, the rage for display, the mania for 
speedy wealth, the hunger for unbridled power have 
utterly destroyed them, no man in his senses can 
believe for a moment. The tremendous development 
of the material side of civilization in this land, the 
unequaled growth of riches, the stupendous forward 
rush have brought in their turn loathsome evils, but 
the body politic is sound, the stock is true, and the 
change, the reaction, are clearly apparent to him 
who cares to look somewhat closely and who is not 
to be deceived by the boiling up of the scum, by the 
frothing and the seething of the lees and the dregs 
that come to the surface in times such as the Great 
Republic has known and is experiencing. The clear 
wine is there, and when the ebullition dies down, 
when time has told upon the society that now fer- 
ments and seethes and bubbles, the rich and healthy 
life will be apparent to all. 

Here again reflection forces one to look at home 
after having considered the condition of things on 
the other side of the ocean. The question whether 
we British can afford to look down upon American 
disregard of law and to thank God that we are not 
as these shameless Yankees, is not one we care to 
face too quickly. For we know the answer would be 

149 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

against our claim — long just — of being a law-abid- 
ing people. 

Woman has shown us how utterly law may be set 
at naught with comparative and in many cases, ab- 
solute immunity. Governments have taught the na- 
tion that illegality may be a positive help to a shaky 
Cabinet. With us, as with Americans, is growing a 
feeling that if only more laws are made, careless 
whether they be thought out first, improvement of 
social conditions is sure to result. We are not yet 
as foolish in this respect as our friends oversea, nor 
quite as heedless of the maintenance of law as they 
are, but we are a fair second and it may be that while 
they are emerging from the chaos they have created, 
we, on the other hand, may travel farther along the 
path they are forsaking. 



X 

MARRIAGE 

It is customary to speak of the Americans as an 
Anglo-Saxon race, and while it is true that as regards 
the original American stock they are Anglo-Saxon, 
it is at least open to question whether, with the 
continual introduction of foreign blood of various 
strains it is accurate to speak of the present ninety 
millions of Americans as pertaining to that par- 
ticular race. Temperamentally they are nearer to 
the Gallic: like the French the Americans are easily 
swayed by emotion and feeling; like the French they 
are willingly moved by oratory and sentiment; like 
the French they love fine phrases and high-sounding 
words. At the same time they possess that fund of 
common sense and that power of recovering their 
balance which is generally considered an attribute 
of the Anglo-Saxon. They "go off the handle" very 
quickly, but they regain their self-control in a brief 
time. They allow themselves to be carried away by 
enthusiasm or anger, but they are apt to reflect, and 
seriously, before translating their emotion into ac- 
tion. 

Among the phrases which they repeat with much 
unction, and with entire conviction and sincerity, 

151 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

*'the sanctity of the home" is a favorite. But one 
wonders, after a prolonged residence in the country, 
whether the meaning attached to these words is 
quite that in which they are taken by ordinary mor- 
tals in other parts of the world. "The sanctity of 
the home" has a fine ring to it, and may be counted 
on in a trial to win acquittal for the accused, if 
he has, for instance, slain a man for an alleged 
outrage. A case in very recent years is in point: a 
girl claimed to have been insulted by the man with 
whom she had gone driving alone, and with whom she 
drank whiskey — a proceeding which appears curious 
in a young person of her sex. She related the story 
to her father, who promptly loaded a gun and shot 
down the man, without giving him the smallest oppor- 
tunity of meeting the charge, save that of buckshot 
which deprived him of life. The jury, with equal 
promptitude, acquitted the father, because he had 
vindicated the sanctity of the home. One cannot but 
wonder what kind of sanctity that is, and further 
wonder is excited by the fact that human life is held 
so cheap that any person, believing himself offended, 
may go out and kill at sight the presumed offender. 
Here again the spirit of independence asserts it- 
self; the children claim and enjoy the freedom of 
action which is amazing to the European. It often 
turns out all right, but it often turns out all wrong. 
The home, in the sense in which that word is used 
even now in Europe, does not really exist in the 
United States, or exists only in the form of excep- 
tion. This does not mean that "home" is a thing 
unknown; far from it; only the conception of the 

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MARRIAGE 

home and of the relations between the members of 
the family is different. It suits the people, and so 
long as that is the case, they have a perfect right 
to prefer their interpretation to that which obtains 
in the Old World. Only the sanctity remains rather 
vague and indefinite. It is a mere formula, in most 
cases, skilfully invoked by a clever pleader whose 
business is to save his client even at the cost of 
truth and morahty and justice. 

This is recognized by the better part of the press 
and by the more thoughtful among the pubhc. The 
particular case just cited called forth at once the 
following sound remarks, among many other com- 
ments of a similar nature, a proof that the com- 
munity, that is, the thinking portion, clearly feels 
the evils and dangers of empty words and phrases, 
of lawlessness and lynch law: 

"The acquittal of former Judge in Vir- 
ginia for shooting down in hot blood a young man 
whom his daughter accused of 'drugging' and mal- 
treating her suggests the need of an amendment to 
the criminal code of that state. 

"The presiding judge in this case refused to admit 
testimony as to the truth of the story which the 
girl told to her father, citing as a precedent a 
similar ruling in the Thaw case in New York. The 
prosecution in Virginia offered to prove that the 
offense charged did not occur, and though this was 
not permitted, the jury unofficially decided from 
the testimony of the young woman herself and other 
circumstances that were brought out that no as- 
sault was actually made. The acquittal was osten- 

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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

sibly given on the ground of temporary insanity, 
though the plea for the defense was based almost 
wholly upon the ^unwritten law,' which warrants 
every Virginia gentleman — and, of course, all native 
white Virginians are gentlemen — to avenge in blood, 
insults or injuries to the women of his family. 

"As this is the second acquittal of a man-slayer 
in Virginia upon this ground within a few months, 
we submit that, as the 'unwritten law' is a return to 
barbarism and anarchy, the Legislature of the State 
put upon its statute book the law upheld by public 
opinion and sanctioned in the courts — in these 
terms : 

"Be it enacted, that any white male citizen of Vir- 
ginia is hereby authorized to kill upon sight, without 
opportunity for denial or defense, any man whom he 
has been told or has reason to suspect has seduced 
or insulted any female relative or connection of his ; 
and this without reference to the truth or falsity of 
the charge or the grounds of the suspicion. 

"Such a law would tend to relieve the crmiinal 
code in Virginia, or other state where this 'unwritten 
law of honor' prevails, of the contempt put upon 
it by such verdicts as this. It would likewise save 
the State much needless expense, and avoid the de- 
moralizing effect of such farcical trials. In a 
'government of laws, not of men,' all laws should be 
enacted, written, and observed or enforced." 

The foundation of the home, in European society, 
is marriage, with all its responsibilities, with its privi- 
leges, with its duties, with its joys. Marriage, there- 
fore, is safeguarded to a greater extent in the Old 

154. 



Mi 



MARRIAGE 

World than in the New. In the latter, indeed, it Is 
not looked upon as unalterably binding, nor can it 
be so in a land where the principle of personal in- 
dependence is so strongly rooted and acts with such 
power upon the inhabitants. Why should there be 
any binding of the individual in the case of mar- 
riage any more than in the case of any other con- 
tract which may be terminated at the pleasure of 
one or both the parties to it.^ In very many cases, 
therefore, marriage ceases to be the solemn engage- 
ment for life which it has always been held to be in 
Europe. It is degraded, in innumerable cases, into 
a ready means of satisfying a passing caprice, an 
ephemeral passion, and once satiety has made itself 
felt, nothing is easier or more readily resorted to 
than divorce. 

The seriousness of the tie is by very many not 
recognized or acted upon. It is a provisional com- 
pact. It is entered into in haste and emerged from 
more hastily still. The safeguards are in more than 
one State quite inadequate ; minors are able to ob- 
tain the services of parson or magistrate with little 
or no difficulty ; licenses are got without much trou- 
ble, and matches made in the twinkling of an eye. 
Married in one State, the parties can go into an- 
other and obtain the coveted dissolution of the bonds 
which sit so lightly on them. One of the parties may 
obtain the judgment without the other having the 
chance to contest. The divorce mill grinds exceed- 
ingly fast, and with much profit to those in charge 
of it. 

And divorce becomes a necessity, an inevitable 
155 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

consequence of the laxness of the celebration of mar- 
riages, and of the fatal facility with which men and 
women enter the state of matrimony. Not long 
since a young woman who had been married to a 
fascinating individual pretending to high station in 
life, discovered, within less than a week, that she 
was the second wife, the first being undivorced even. 
On examination, it came out that she had met her 
gay Lothario one day, had dined with him the next, 
and had been married to him, with her mother's con- 
sent, the following morning. Marriage thus lightly 
entered into ceases to be marriage. 

The pulpit and the better part of the press de- 
plore this condition of affairs. They call for 
stronger and more efficient marriage laws, for uni- 
form divorce laws, for the prohibition of the re- 
marriage of the guilty party, during a certain period 
at least, but they appear to make scarcely any 
headway — if any. Men and women have no hesi- 
tation in announcing that they are merely waiting 
for the one or the other to be freed from his or her 
present bonds in order to wed anew and elsewhere. 
And the sorry spectacle is presented of a wedding 
breakfast at which everyone present has been 
divorced at least once, while several have repeated 
and triplicated the performance. 

How can a home be consecrated while such prac- 
tices endure and are not only tolerated but encour- 
aged by the facility with which, first, so-called mar- 
riage and, next, divorce can be obtained.'' What 
conception of the sanctity of the family can be had 
by children who have seen a succession of fathers or 

156 



MARRIAGE 

a series of mothers rule over them? The fact that 
the immediate satisfaction of a desire, a whim, is 
within the reach of all who care to avail themselves 
of the means ready to their hand, cannot surely in- 
still in the minds of the youths and the maidens 
any particular respect for an institution which de- 
rives its chief claim to veneration from the fact 
that it is or ought to be a union of hearts and souls 
and not simply a pandering to sensual appetites. 

It may be urged that there are thousands on 
thousands of decent families in the United States the 
members of which would shudder at the thought of 
recourse to the divorce court, and this is happily 
perfectly true, but there are also innumerable in- 
stances of the scandalous facility with which mar- 
riage is set at naught and the family disrupted. 
The important point is that divorce does not of it- 
self inflict a stigma; people are received in decent 
society even after they have proved themselves in- 
capable of keeping the pledges freely given by them. 
Men who have deserved the adverse decree obtained 
against them are none the less considered fit and 
proper persons for admission to homes where virtue 
reigns and where the decencies are observed. For 
in the land of pubHcity it is not possible to ignore 
the fact that such and such persons have availed 
themselves of the facilities at the disposal of the 
rich for the purpose of severing the marital tie. 

There is always the danger, in speaking or writ- 
ing on questions affecting the manners of a nation, 
of being misunderstood, and there is the almost cer- 
tainty of motives being attributed to the critic. It 

157 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

is easy to charge him with precipitate j udgment, with 
unjustifiable conclusions, with exaggeration; it is 
easy to urge that he selects certain cases and gen- 
eralizes from them; but assuredly no one acquainted 
with daily life in the United States can deny that 
the indictment, if so harsh a term may be used, is, 
in respect to the too general disregard of the sanc- 
tity of the marriage tie, in any degree overdrawn. 
The fulminations of church assemblies, the denuncia- 
tions of the higher order of newspapers, the caustic 
reproaches so often spoken by public orators, all 
concur in proving that the view here taken is not an 
unfair one, and that the danger, for danger it is, 
does threaten the very springs of family life and 
family honor. 

Even as a small lump of leaven leaveneth the 
whole lump, so may a small amount of poison destroy 
the virtue of a society. The levity with which mar- 
riage is too frequently entered into, the readiness, 
eagerness, nay, haste, with which recourse is there- 
after had to the Divorce Court, are two points on 
which the attention of the observer, especially of the 
sympathetic observer, cannot fail to dwell. Were 
one secretly or openly a hater of the democracy of 
the United States, this evil is precisely one on Avhich 
no stress would be laid, as it can safely be depended 
upon to work incredible harm to the national mor- 
als. But for anyone interested in and proud of 
the wonderful progress of the country, seeing in 
it the gage of eventual development of a power 
destined to be most beneficent to humanity at large, 
for any such person to refrain from speaking out 

158 



MARRIAGE 

on the subject were worse than cowardice. It is 
not by merely flattering a people that it can be 
brought to a realizing sense of its imperfections and 
of the need of pruning and cutting. All truths 
should not perhaps be uttered, but some truths must 
be spoken at any cost, and those which affect the 
deepest well-being of a race are among the latter. 

What is the reason of the prevalence of hasty 
marriages, or ill-considered matches, and of the in- 
numerable divorces which bring shame to the public 
conscience? 

There are two or three reasons, and the first, the 
most evident, is the working of the democratic prin- 
ciple; the influence of individualism and a totally 
erroneous application of the idea of liberty, degener- 
ating into lawlessness, are two others. 

The democratic principle, as has been shown al- 
ready, tends to develop both individualism, which 
speedily is carried to the extremest length of worst 
egotism, and lawlessness. It may thus be said that 
the first reason contains the other two. If it be 
clearly and thoroughly understood that the Amer- 
ican looks upon democracy in a way vastly dif- 
ferent from Europeans ; and that he carries out the 
idea on which it is based to its logical limit, the 
peculiar state of mind of the devotees of marriage 
followed by divorce will be more readily under- 
stood. The democratic principle leads men to de- 
sire to do what they themselves please, regardless of 
its eff'ect upon those around them. That is egotism, 
individualism run mad, but such is the actual state 
of the case. Men and women alike do not recognize, 

159 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

do not admit, in practice, any limitation of their 
individual rights. Here again the critic may not 
improbably be accused of exaggeration, but it is 
impossible to study the American people in their 
daily life, it is impossible to hear their expressions 
of opinion, to observe their application of these 
views of life to life itself, without coming to this 
conclusion, a little sooner or a little later, but in- 
faUibly. 

Now, so long as selfishness, unsuspected or open, 
is a mainspring of action, it follows that nothing 
will be held sacred which interferes in the smallest 
degree with the complete satisfaction of personal 
aspirations and desires. Individualism, as practiced 
and taught, leads directly to the propagation and 
encouragement of egotism. The average man and 
average woman are trained, as a rule unconsciously, 
to seek to have their own way. Personal success is 
the thing men aim at ; it is the goal of their aspira- 
tions and their hopes. They intend to "get there," 
as they themselves express it, and getting there, 
somehow, is a process destructive of all consideration 
for others. Indeed, the others are either obstacles 
to be overcome or thrown aside or possible aids to be 
made use of. They are not perceived to have any 
claims to consideration; that is probably the last 
thought which would enter the mind of the hustler. 
The weak go to the wall, fatally ; the strong and the 
unscrupulous alone push to the front. 

In business as in politics, the primary object is 
success in the aims set before himself by the man 
who starts out to conquer his place in the world. 

160 



MARRIAGE 

To that everything else must yield: morality itself, 
if it happens to get in the way, as it has a habit of 
doing. So in the relations between the sexes, the 
individualistic tendency becomes at once manifest. 

The deeper and truer conception of the marriage 
tie is that each party to it is prepared and willing 
to sacrifice personal preferences for the sake of the 
other; that it is no longer a separate but a united 
aim which is pursued; that mutual support and mu- 
tual encouragement are the immediate gain ob- 
tained ; that burdens are diminished by being shared 
and joys increased by the happiness they bring the 
other; that it is impossible to see always with a 
single eye, but that it is possible and delightful to 
learn how to look with the other's eyes ; that differ- 
ences are certain to arise, seeing men are mortal and 
necessarily faulty, but that differences can be ad- 
justed and smoothed over without contention and 
separation. 

This view, however, is not that apt to be taken 
by the individualist, and the ordinary training be- 
stowed upon the American child is not of a sort 
to foster unselfishness and abnegation. Given the 
early education and the atmosphere in which young 
men and young women live; the facility with which 
they learn of the various "society" scandals ; the 
leniency with which divorce is looked upon as a rule; 
the habit of having their own way and the general 
tendency of the greater majority of those who sur- 
round them to act for their own benefit regardless of 
others, it is not surprising that the sense of duty 
should be little cultivated, that the need of careful 

161 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

consideration before entering upon the marriage 
state should be lost sight of, and that alliances 
should be contracted with a heedlessness that is well- 
nigh criminal. 

The Church, divided as it is into many com- 
munions, has at least to its credit that officially it 
opposes the current of popular indifference to the 
evil of divorce, obtained without difficulty, and dis- 
pensed with lavish hand by courts. But here again 
there is a weakness in the position of the ecclesiastics 
which is not without influence upon people desirous 
of breaking loose from a contract usually looked 
upon as binding for life. Individual clergymen are 
always to be found who, for some consideration or 
other, will remarry divorced persons. A very re- 
cent case created much scandal on this account. 
The pair who sought to be united with "the blessing 
of the Church" did not fail in their purpose : the 
groom was enormously wealthy and the proffered fee 
was a fat one. It was not a case in which the 
clergyman could possibly plead ignorance of the 
facts, for they had been blazed abroad throughout 
the length and breadth of the land; it was simply 
an instance of that lack of principle which is too 
often exhibited in this connection by men whose 
profession leads the ordinary layman to expect that 
they shall stand up for principle instead of being 
influenced by money and patronage. 

The assemblies of the various ecclesiastical bodies 
are in the habit of denouncing the loose notions en- 
tertained of the sanctity of the marriage tie, and 
the consequent resort to divorce. They pass resolu- 

16^ 



MARRIAGE 

tions of the very strongest and most uncompromis- 
ing character, but these fail to reach the root of the 
evil, and fail all the more badly because of the weak- 
kneed among the parsons. It is not by means of 
canons and votes that the harm done by the spread 
of divorce will be stayed or cured; it is not by the 
preaching of sermons, however eloquent, that the 
tide of demoralization will be kept back. These 
things, very good in themselves, fail utterly to strike 
the cause, and so long as the cause is untouched, so 
long, logically, will the harm continue. 

The sanctity of the home can be maintained and 
defended not by the use of the shotgun, the pistol 
or the knife, as is assumed by the juries of certain 
States in the Union, where human life is of no value 
in comparison with the satisfaction of prejudices and 
the slaking of hot anger, unreasoning and maniacal. 
It is not to be maintained either by allowing the 
very bond of the family to be so loosened that it 
fails of its proper purpose. The reform must be 
thorough, and it must aim at diminishing the sense 
of irresponsibility which is too often characteristic 
of the relations between the members of the same 
family. 

To put it tersely, the relations of the family to the 
individual and of the individual to the family are 
not quite in the United States what they are in 
Europe. In Europe, the individual owes a duty to 
the family, and is bound, traditionally and morally 
bound, to think first and foremost of the family, 
not of himself. What he does is certain to affect 
the family as a whole, therefore he must consider its 

163 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

interests. His own personal wishes and preferences 
may be antagonistic to the requirements of the whole 
body; in that case he has to sacrifice them. He is 
one of man}^, united by a common tie : that of blood, 
of tradition, of responsibility. He cannot act as 
though he were alone to be thought of ; he cannot do 
that only which pleases him. He is held fast by in- 
numerable habits and modes of action, which have 
been the habits and the modes of action of those 
who have preceded him, who have handed down to 
him the honorable record which constitutes the fam- 
ily history, the family standing. He is educated, 
trained, started in life in accordance with the re- 
quirements and the beliefs which govern that par- 
ticular class to which he and his belong. He speaks 
of himself, and thinks of himself as a member of a 
family. He is one of a select number. The family 
is the main thing ; the individual is secondary. 

In the United States it is the opposite, although 
family pride and family tradition, as understood in 
Europe, exist in a small degree and in certain parts 
more than in others. There are sets which have pre- 
served the old English, French, German or Dutch 
pride of birth and ancestry, but these are compara- 
tively few. The greater number of famihes in the 
United States are ignorant of the power of that in- 
fluence; the leading motive is not devotion to the 
family as such, but the success of the individual. 
The family owes a duty to him; he does not appear 
to consider that in return he has some responsibil- 
ity toward the family. It must provide him with 
the education he needs, give him the start in life 

164 



MARRIAGE 

to which he is entitled, and then he is practically 
done with it. He has got out of his relatives what 
they are able to furnish him with ; his business is now 
to make his way. He is not attached to the place 
where he was born; the "old homestead" may occa- 
sionally be spoken of by him with some emotion of 
recollection, but it is an exceptional thing to see a 
man, who has made his way in the world and amassed 
a fortune, return to the cradle of his childhood and 
there spend the remainder of his days. On the con- 
trary, the American who is getting on in the world 
is more apt to pass from one habitation to another, 
each succeeding one more splendid and more luxuri- 
ous than its predecessor, so that it may be in keep- 
ing with the change in his circumstances. Exquisite- 
ly beautiful estates are thrown on the market and 
cut up into house lots, because the owner has mi- 
grated to a more fashionable [resort, where his 
wealth will have the chance to display itself, and not 
always with vulgar ostentation. 

Here and there one comes across a property that 
has remained in the same family for two or three 
hundred years, which is still occupied by the descen- 
dants of the original owners, which is rich in asso- 
ciations and memories, and which preserves intact all 
that the story of the family has of the honorable 
and distinguished. But this is the rare exception; 
the rule is newness and continual change. 

Why this should be the case puzzles the observer 
at first. But reflection gives the key to the riddle. 
The self-made man is the man in the majority: the 
self-made man naturally likes to see his own handi- 

165 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

work, and the best setting for it is a home of his 
own making, a house designed after his own fancy. 
The place he came from, if he did come from any 
place in particular, has no attraction for him; it is 
not his creation. Every successful American has in 
him the same self-pride which led Louis XIV to re- 
ject all the splendid palaces of his predecessors in 
favor of the Versailles which he created for himself. 
The home then becomes the outward and visible sign 
of the success of the owner. It stands as a monu- 
ment to his skill, his energy, his talents. It is a 
perpetual sweet savor to him, an enduring testimony 
to what he himself, and not any forbear, has accom- 
phshed in the great struggle for fortune. This is a 
perfectly natural and perfectly intelligible state of 
mind, and in a country where progress and develop- 
ment are so continuous and so rapid, it is not to be 
wondered at that the habits of the Old W^orld should 
fail to commend themselves to the inhabitants of the 
New. In Europe, taking it all round, men look 
back: the past is rich in tradition and story and 
legend and memories of great deeds performed by the 
ancestors. The tradition has to be maintained, the 
record carried on, and the comparison with the past 
is the test applied to the success of the present. The 
links are many and close which bind a man to the 
paternal estate ; the very isolation of the English 
land, guarded by its silver streak of sea, has tended 
to keep men within the borders. But all these con- 
ditions are changed in America; the tribe of ances- 
tors, no matter how distinguished and famous, does 
not help a man to make his way; the traditions of 

166 



MARRIAGE 

the family will not smooth his path nor make his lot 
any easier; he has to reckon upon himself, to carve 
his road to success, to found his home for himself, 
and to create his own tradition. Once he has received 
that education which his parents can afford to give 
him, which, in nearly every State is provided gratui- 
tously for him, it lies with him and with him alone 
to turn it to profitable account. The family has 
done with him, for he has done with the family. 
Each member strikes out for himself or herself, each 
one goes on his or her own way, and it may be that 
the scattered brothers and sisters will not meet 
again, unless, perchance, in some of those associa- 
tions of persons bearing the same name which have 
sprung up of late years, and draw together all those 
who are connected with some branch of some old 
English stock. 

Thus there is not the profound sense of family 
allegiance which exists in European society, and the 
man or the woman who seeks freedom from the ties 
of wedlock, does so unhesitatingly, as a matter which 
concerns himself or herself alone. Personal interest 
only is at stake ; nothing pertaining to a wider circle 
is involved, and the very fact that the action of 
an individual necessarily exerts an influence on so- 
ciety at large is forgotten in the pursuit of indi- 
vidual gratification. Commodore Vanderbilt gained 
fame by his remark : "Damn the public !" but those 
who laughingly quote that celebrated saying are 
themselves apt to apply the principle which dictated 
it, whenever their own interests clash with public 
morality. A man whose vast wealth gives him the 

167 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

great prominence which wealth bestows in the United 
States does not stop for a second to consider 
whether that wealth and that prominence involves, 
on his part, responsibiHties toward the public, to- 
ward society. All he thinks of is what he desires to 
do, and having decided that he wants to do that par- 
ticular thing, he does it, remorselessly, unhesitat- 
ingly, simply because it suits him. And he would 
be infinitely surprised were he to be told that in thus 
satisfying his own wishes he is guilty of a moral 
crime against the society of the land that has given 
him his wealth and his influence. 

Again, the training of children in average Amer- 
ican homes is not on the whole such as to impress 
upon them, at that period of life when impressions 
sink deep in the mind, a real regard for others than 
themselves. It is a moot question, of course, and one 
not really solved, that of the proper training to be 
given to children. The American claims that he has 
turned out the finest specimen of womanhood the 
world has ever seen when he turns out "the American 
girl." That is as it may be, and opinions differ, 
even in America, concerning the supposed superior- 
ity of the girl. But it is certain that the American 
training of the child, boy or girl, is wholly in the 
direction of independence from parental control at 
the earliest age. Boys and girls alike imbibe from 
the first the sense of freedom from all rule and all 
obstacles to the fulfillment of their wishes. There is 
no restraint, to a certain extent, except the re- 
straint resorted to for the sake of peace, of com- 
fort ; and not as a matter of principle, as a means of 

168 



MARRIAGE 

discipline. The American child has as decided an 
objection to discipline as the grown American has to 
law which presses unfavorably upon him. And it is 
easier to yield to the child than to compel it to 
obey. Hence the development of individualism 
which afterwards bears both good and bad fruit, for 
it must not be supposed that this form of education, 
however starthng and repugnant even to the Euro- 
pean, accustomed to the traditional methods of his 
land, is devoid of excellence. Far from it: the very 
independence induces later the determination to make 
one's own way, and not to be dependent upon parents 
or family for that income which the boy or the girl 
can earn alone. It has the advantage of cultivating 
self-reliance and resourcefulness, initiative and en- 
ergy; the child as it grows learns more and more 
to do things for itself; it learns early to look to it- 
self for the satisfaction of its desires. Parental 
authority is doubtless greatly weakened, and harm- 
ful results flow from that fact, but, on the other 
hand, good also is derived from the spirit of self- 
help and self-direction. Girls are too apt to make 
unfortunate marriages, and then to have recourse 
to the attractive court which decrees divorce; too 
apt to reject with contempt the warnings of their 
elders and to start out in life for themselves without 
the safeguards which are still considered necessary 
for women, even in so advanced a state of society as 
obtains in the United States. But there is much 
advantage also, and in comparison there are not only 
more girls and women capable of earning a respect- 
able livelihood for themselves, but there is also a 

169 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

far higher standard of opinion respecting the woman 
who makes her own way in the world and is not con- 
tent to rely for the necessities of life upon her im- 
mediate or her distant relatives. 

Nor is the European tradition, the European habit 
absent totally. There are many families in which 
all the sweetness of family life, as understood and 
practiced in England or France, abounds ; where the 
parental authority is still dominant ; where the sense 
of responsibility and interdependence is yet strong 
and lively, and it would be difficult to find finer 
examples of true homes and beautiful family life 
than one meets not infrequently in this country. 
The general system has gradually arisen as a con- 
sequence of the struggle for the necessities of life in 
a land where such struggle is keen and competition 
is fierce; where every man has to work and every 
woman to slave, unless she is endowed with a suffi- 
ciency of this world's goods ; but there is this radical 
difference in favor of the American conditions, that 
woman's sphere of usefulness and activity has been 
vastly extended, that it has enabled her to assume a 
rank more in consonance with her natural rights, to 
prove her capacity, her power of sufficing unto her- 
self, and to relieve her of the burden of inferiority 
which is still too largely her share in the Old World. 

The training of the average American child does 
not fit it for the fulfillment of the European tradi- 
tions of the family, and it is impossible, or at least 
exceedingly difficult, to make the American under- 
stand the condition of things in this respect in the 
old European countries. The French law, which re- 

170 



MARRIAGE 

quires the consent of the parents to the marriage 
of children, is utterly unintelligible to the American 
youth, who holds very firmly to the opinion that mar- 
riage is a matter concerning two people only, and 
with which parents have no real and sound right to 
interfere in any way. The independence of thought, 
the independence of habit which are characteristic 
of the American, are opposed to the application of 
European ideas and traditions in the education of 
the young. Those who bear affectionate regard to 
these traditions and ideas mourn the fact, but all 
the mourning and wailing, all the regret and longing 
will not change the practice one iota. Conditions are 
essentially different, and results must perforce be 
different also. 

It is not, then, by fulminating condemnation of the 
habit and practice of easy divorce that the churches 
will ever succeed in checking the evil practice. All 
the canons they enthusiastically pass will not prevent 
the average individual from continuing to seek in 
the courts that relief from bonds which have swiftly 
become irksome. The protests of the press, eloquent 
and sound as they are, fail to move those who have 
absolutel}'^ no notion of the individual's responsibility 
to the community. 

Society is not on the side of the Church or the 
press in this respect. Divorce is not condemned 
by the bulk of the people and is not looked upon as 
a wrong thing. On the contrary, it is currently and 
commonly spoken of as a ready means of getting 
rid of difficulties which, were separation not easily 
obtainable might, and in many cases would, be met 

171 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

with a sincere desire to overcome them. But why 
trouble with overcoming obstacles when they can be 
avoided altogether? Why think for a moment of 
striving to introduce harmony instead of discord 
when it is so easy to get rid of the discord by simply 
getting a divorce? Why worry over the possible 
difficulties of marriage when marriage need not be 
more than a passing recreation and satisfaction? 
Why think of responsibilities to the community 
when one has been brought up in the individualistic 
creed ? 

Along this line, surely, lies the work of the pul- 
pit and the press, not, as the former appears to 
imagine, in the framing of more canons, in the elab- 
oration of more regulations. The curse of the 
United States is the superabundance of laws ; laws 
which are swiftly enacted and as swiftly ignored or 
evaded. What is wanted is not more law, but a 
recognition of the force and necessity and useful- 
ness of law; not more canons and sermons, but an 
effort to so alter the training of the child, from its 
earhest years, that it shall realize, once arrived at 
man's estate, that the individual lives not for him- 
self alone, especially in a democratic community — 
but has weighty responsibilities toward that com- 
munity; responsibihties which cannot be shirked 
without danger to the individual, without positive 
harm to the common weal. 

It is not necessary to check or destroy the demo- 
cratic spirit, so fruitful of good in so many ways; 
it is only necessary to enlighten it, and to make 
its possessors perceive that democracy has not ful- 

172 



MARRIAGE 

filled its purpose when it has bestowed liberty upon 
the individual, but that it also has to conserve the 
morality of society, and that in a higher and more 
thorough way than may be possible under any other 
form of government. 

For if there be indeed a virtue in democracy, and 
of that there can be no doubt, that virtue should 
work for the welfare of the mass as well as of the in- 
dividual. Democracy does not mean government for 
the private benefit of the isolated but government for 
the highest good of all. It has a task to achieve yet 
in the United States, and it is capable of carrying it 
to a successful issue. When, to the sense of free- 
dom, of personal independence and power, now so 
rife among the Americans, is added the due recogni- 
tion of the duties and responsibilities of the individ- 
ual to society, freedom and independence will not 
be lessened, but broadened, and happiness, declared 
by the Constitution to be an inalienable right of 
man, will be far more surely secured for the greater 
number than it is at present. The selfishness too 
evident in the conception and practice of life will 
be replaced by a higher and healthier conception of 
the relations between the members of the community, 
and most, if not all, of the evils which now afflict so- 
ciety will disappear. But selfishness, or that form of 
it dignified too often with the name of independence, 
must first be checked and diminished. In that direc- 
tion should the churches work, and along that line 
should the press teach. 



XI 

WOMAN 

A noteworthy effect of democracy in the United 
States has been the uplifting of woman. Democracy 
has accomplished many things, and will yet accom- 
plish more, for in it lies the hope of the human 
race, but what it has done for woman surpasses all 
else. Not that the end is reached yet, or the goal 
won; far from it; but at least a fair start has been 
made, and there can be no going back, no retracing 
the steps taken, no undoing the good work accom- 
plished. The steady rising of woman to the place 
which she claims as her just due, to the equality she 
insists she is entitled to, is not now to be stemmed, 
and all the arguments brought against it, all the 
ridicule showered upon it, will but result in the 
stronger growth of the belief that woman has as 
much right to liberty and the consequences of liberty 
as her brother man. 

The United States is unquestionably ahead of 
Europe in the general education of women, and the 
day is past when it could be claimed that woman 
is intellectually inferior to man. She has as eager 
a desire for instruction, as quick a mind to receive 
it, as steadfast a perseverance in striving after it, 

174 



WOMAN 

and she attains eminence as readily as does the so- 
called nobler sex, which has so long considered her 
practically an inferior being. It is perhaps the most 
marvelous of the many marvelous spectacles which 
America presents, this spectacle of the progress 
made by the feminist movement.- It is not much 
more than a couple of generations since it took prac- 
tical form, and the successes it has scored since 
then augur well for the future triumph of the idea 
which underlies it. 

It is needless to say that even now there is an 
enormous amount of opposition to the extension 
of the rights of woman to the same limits as the 
rights of man ; that among women themselves are 
very many who are strongly in antagonism to the 
views of the reformers and progressists ; that among 
men the vast majority entertain the identical opin- 
ions which have held sway for centuries, and believe 
conscientiously that any further development along 
the present lines can onl}^ insure harm to the social 
body, and to the family in particular. This is nat- 
ural, and not every movement for the spread of 
freedom is at once successful. The movement for the 
establishing of the absolute equality of men and 
women cannot, in the nature of things, but evoke 
virulent opposition. The habit of looking on woman 
as an inferior, in every sense of the word, is so rooted 
that it will take years to instil different notions in 
the mind of the rising generation. Then the fact 
that in many colleges where co-education is the rule, 
the women manage to secure more honors than their 
male competitors, that they exhibit a quickness and 

175 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

a readiness in assimilating the instruction received, 
that they prove by their application and earnest- 
ness their fitness for higher education, indisposes 
many against them, instead of securing their sup- 
port. It is hopeless to try to convert those who are 
convinced that the whole idea is unsound ; that is the 
result of centuries of habit. But with the young 
generation it is different, and as the years go by it 
may confidently be expected that the question, so 
important and so fraught with vital consequences 
to the welfare of the community, will be discussed 
with less prejudice and a greater readiness to con- 
cede that in a democratic country women are en- 
titled to equal rights with men. 

And truly it is not a comforting reflection for a 
Briton that it has been the deliberately chosen part 
of a body of women in Great Britain to prove to 
the world that they are essentially, constitutionally, 
unfit to exercise power. In respect of the suffrage 
movement this country of ours has made a lament- 
able exhibition of itself, which contrasts unpleasantly 
with the saner methods of the American friends of 
the cause. In America woman suffrage, though it 
does not excite wild enthusiasm, is steadily making 
its way, and whether one believes in the idea or not, 
there is no disposition to turn it into ridicule or 
to oppose it by any but rational means. 

Consequently women have won the suffrage in a 
number of States and will win it the land over. With 
us, the madness of the "Furies," as they have well 
been called, has set the movement back for years. 
And the weak and very half-hearted condemnation 

176 



WOMAN 

of the militants by the Constitutional societies re- 
veals plainly the secret admiration the latter have 
for the former. 

On the simple basis of justice, of the application 
of the democratic principle, British women ought to 
have the right of suffrage. But is it to be wondered 
at that hesitation has been transformed into hostility 
when the very actions of the women and their defense 
of these actions prove beyond a shadow of a doubt 
that they are incapable of seeing the right and 
wrong of matters, that they lack common sense, fore- 
sight, ordinary intelligence .'' 

"The American girl" and the American woman 
generally has not been guilty of such folly as her 
British sisters. She proved herself capable, she 
upheld in sensible fashion the justice of her claim 
and she has carried her point in more than one State 
and is likely ere long to secure the suffrage in Fed- 
eral matters. In other words she has shown herself 
superior to that portion, at least, of her British 
sisters whose conduct has debased the high Ideal of 
womanhood and set back the accomplishment of a 
legitimate and just demand. 

Already It is the sense, unconscious in many cases, 
of this fact which has made the American woman 
different from her sisters in Europe ; for she is dif- 
ferent. She has acquired the feeling that she is as 
good as man, and it will be impossible for man to 
uproot that notion once it has taken firm hold. She 
has learned that she can do many things, and do 
them well, which it was taken for granted a woman 
was Incapable of performing. She has won her place 

177 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and holds it ; she is aware of her powers, and means 
to use them. She sees that these powers involve re- 
sponsibilities and she is willing to assume and dis- 
charge these. She has secured for herself not the 
education of the public and high schools alone, but 
of the college and the university, and in these higher 
fields she has proved her ability alongside of men 
trained with the advantage of long tradition on their 
side. That she is not infrequently inferior yet in 
certain points is not an argument against her even- 
tual capacity to equal man in this respect. It is 
probably the outcome, the very natural outcome, of 
the long subjection in which she has been held, of 
the refusal to give her instruction, of the assump- 
tion that the Creator did not intend her to occupy 
a place by the side of man, but one beneath him. 

The conditions of life in the United States, differ- 
ing so widely in many ways from those of life in 
Europe, have facilitated the success of the feminist 
movement. The diminution of home duties and re- 
sponsibilities, due largely to economic causes, has 
led to the need of other occupations ; to the filling of 
time with other matters than housekeeping, where 
housekeeping is either not called for or is already 
in charge of someone else. Women necessarily re- 
quired an occupation: education of the mind ap- 
peared to offer the needed satisfaction, and once it 
was tasted, it was liked. Hence the great growth of 
the numbers of college-bred women, numbers which 
are steadily and rapidly increasing throughout the 
country. 

It is too early to pronounce definitely upon the 
178 



WOINIAN 

vexed question of the effect of college education upon 
woman and the home. It is urged by some opposed 
to the higher education of women, that it unfits them 
for home duties ; first, by taking them away at a 
time of life when they ought to be learning house- 
keeping; second, by leading them to interest them- 
selves in questions which are not of their competence. 
These arguments have really no very solid founda- 
tion, and already have been successfully controverted 
in actual experience by the simple fact that many a 
woman college graduate has proved that a broad 
education, far from impairing her abihty to make 
a good wife and a good housekeeper, tends rather 
to develop in her the very qualities needed in these 
positions, besides affording her a means of widening 
her life and thus making her yet more of a help- 
meet and a companion to her husband. 

In truth, the force and persistency of the cen- 
turies old tradition of the intellectual inferiority 
of woman is accepted without reflection by many 
men and women alike, and out of that tradition, con- 
vention has built up a system of repressive rules and 
observances which hem in woman even now and even 
in the democratic United States, albeit much less 
there than in Europe. In the latter, the rise of 
woman has been exceedingly slow, and her status 
has been uplifted little by little and only with extreme 
difficulty. This is the logical consequence of the 
condition of society as the latter gradually emerged 
from the overthrow of the old Roman civilization by 
the invasion of the Teutonic nations. In the state 
of war which then obtained, woman necessarily was 

179 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

relegated to the background; her dependence upon 
the physically stronger sex was accentuated, and 
lasted so long that it became an article of faith. 
And at a time when instruction was confined to an 
exceedingly small minority of the whole population, 
it was natural that no thought should be bestowed 
upon the intellectual development of woman herself, 
although it was mainly women who formed the audi- 
ence of the minstrels and who aided in the conserva- 
tion of the literature of the day, not infrequently, 
indeed, contributing to it themselves. 

Even with the improvement in the social conditions 
which followed upon the substitution of peace for 
war as the normal state of society, with the growth 
of instruction, albeit still slow and partial, it was a 
belief so firmly implanted in the minds of men and 
women alike that the latter was incapable of higher 
instruction that no real attempt was made to supply 
them with opportunities to prove their fitness for 
it. And this in face of the fact that in France, 
for example, it was a woman who led the way in the 
uplifting of literature and language, and that women 
shone in the galaxy of illustrious writers who made 
famous the reign of Louis XIV. Even the eight- 
eenth century, with its marvelous impulse toward 
progress and liberty, failed to recognize the pos- 
sibility of woman equaling her brother man in let- 
ters, science and art. It was reserved for the nine- 
teenth, and especially for the nineteenth century in 
America, to proclaim the right of woman to obtain 
an education similar in every respect to that of 
man. 

180 



WOMAN 

The real cause of the uplifting of woman is of 
course to be sought still further back. Whatever 
may be thought of the worship of the Virgin, by 
those who do not form part of the Roman com- 
munion, it is undeniable that the action of the Church 
contributed greatly to bring about a higher concep- 
tion of the status of woman and to develop a more 
chivalrous attitude with regard to her. And that 
sprang from the essential result of the Christian 
doctrine, which, as has been aptly said, taught the 
dignity of the human soul. Now even the bitterest 
opponents of the equality of women would scarcely 
venture to affirm that women have no souls. It was 
this doctrine, the truth of which deepened with the 
centuries, that gradually aroused men to the recog- 
nition of the rights of man, those rights so ardently 
proclaimed by the French revolutionists, and which 
are now accepted as the basis of democratic govern- 
ment. But if man enjoyed these natural rights, it 
was hard to deny them to woman, and thus little by 
little dawned the thought that woman was not the 
inferior but the complete equal of man. It is this 
democratic belief which is at the root of the differ- 
ence between the American woman and her sister in 
Europe. In the latter, the faith still holds that be- 
cause physically weaker she is therefore intellec- 
tuall}^ weaker, and, consequently, unable to under- 
stand many questions which the nobler intelligence 
of her brother man solves without the least difficulty. 
In America, on the contrary, the feeling has grown 
steadily that the intelligence of woman is as keen, as 
strong, as true as that of man; that woman is quite 

181 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

as capable of mental improvement as is man ; that she 
is as able as he to enter into the study of questions 
affecting the moral welfare of the home and the com- 
munity. This just appreciation of her capacity has 
led to the spread of education for women on the same 
general lines as for men; it has brought about the 
foundation of institutions in which, either in com- 
pany with men or apart from them, women are able 
to obtain the instruction for which their intellect 
craves. It has caused the admission of women to 
learned professions, where they have proved their 
fitness for duties hitherto considered strictly con- 
fined to men. It has enabled them to show that the 
supposed inferiority existed because it was sedulously 
kept up by the denial of opportunities, but that 
once the principle of equal opportunities, already vin- 
dicated in the case of men, was applied to women, 
they also manifested the beneficial results of the 
spirit of democracy. 

The American woman has the advantage of being 
brought up in an atmosphere of independence; not 
of political independence only, but of independence 
of thought. It is characteristic of the American 
that he is an original thinker in business, in the arts, 
in the professions ; he is not bound down hard and 
fast by traditions which are weighted with the respec- 
tability of age ; he shakes himself free from tram- 
mels which hamper his European competitor, and he 
does not hesitate to attempt experiments which may 
prove disastrous but which are often crowned with 
brilliant success. He is inventive; resourceful; he 
is full of initiative, and these qualities are met with 

182 



WOMAN 

in the women of the race as they are in the men. 
It was impossible, therefore, that the American 
woman should continue to be bound by the ideas of 
the Old World, that she should be wilhng to remain 
what her sisters in the older lands had been forced 
to remain for so long. It was impossible that, 
breathing the atmosphere of freedom, of individual- 
ism of the United States, she should be content to 
lag behind and to renounce the opportunities which 
democracy offers to all who are intelligent, active, 
persevering and able. She saw her chance and took 
it. She took it in spite of an opposition rooted in 
old behefs, which, though they cannot be as strong 
in a new land as in an old one, nevertheless still form 
part and parcel of the accepted conventions of so- 
ciety. She has had to fight for her rights, exactly 
as the men of 1776 had to fight for theirs, and like 
them she has won the battle. She still has much to 
overcome, much prejudice to destroy, but the prog- 
ress she has made is such as to warrant the belief, 
optimistic it may be, that the day is not far distant 
when her complete equality will be acknowledged 
without dispute or reservation. 

John Knox, when he set about his reformation, 
saw clearly that the hope of progress and the gage 
of victory lay in the education of the people, and 
he founded that admirable school system which has 
enabled the Scottish race to make its mark wherever 
Scotsmen are found. The French revolutionists per- 
ceived the same truth, and although they could not 
carry out the principle in its entirety, they pro- 
claimed universal and compulsory education for aU 

183 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

classes. The founders of the Commonwealth of 
Massachusetts likewise had already applied that 
principle, and had given education a foremost place 
in their plan of government. The United States, 
as it grew, developed common school education 
with the result that at the present moment instruc- 
tion is practically universal and all children are 
enabled to acquire it. 

The women of America, far from being intellectu- 
ally inferior to men, saw for themselves that the 
first step in the march to victory must be education, 
higher education for women, and to that they bent 
their efforts. They would have wished co-education 
established in all the colleges and universities, and 
it was with regret that the more ardent champions of 
the cause saw the founding of separate colleges for 
girls. But even with separate education, the rapid 
growth of higher instruction for the sex to which It 
had been so long denied was marvelous. Institu- 
tions which now number their students by hundreds, 
remember easily the day when there were scarcely 
some scores. And with every passing year the move- 
ment will gain greater force and greater develop- 
ment. In America higher education for women is 
no longer an experiment ; it is a settled fact. 

A woman writer has said : "Kings are enslaved by 
women, you know, and statesmen are led by them, 
though they oughtn't to be. And poets worship 
them, else how could they write poetry ? There would 
be nothing to write about. It is reserved for boys 
and savages to look down upon them." Of a surety 
it is not the American woman who runs the risk of 

184 



WOMAN 

being looked down upon. Her power is too well es- 
tablished, her influence too great to admit of any 
but respectful consideration of her claims. She has 
gained a position for herself, and she is certain to 
maintain it. Her prestige, her charm are recog- 
nized. She has developed herself into a type of her 
sex, and however much the type may grate upon 
those who hold by antique traditions, it is the type 
of the future. She has asserted her right to absolute 
and perfect equality with man, and she will not rest 
until she has fully compassed her ends. No one now 
in America would venture to propose the closing of 
educational institutions to women, and education 
is for them what it has been and what it is for 
men : the means to liberty. 

The women in America are the really civilizing 
class. Culture must largely depend upon them in 
the present conditions of things. Men, most men, 
are too much occupied in the struggle for life and 
wealth to have leisure or inchnation for the pursuit 
of the more refining influences. They have not time, 
or think they have no time, to maintain purity in 
politics. The women have interested themselves in 
politics ; they have not yet succeeded everywhere 
in obtaining the suffrage, but their influence is felt 
and, on the whole, it is a very beneficial influence. 
They have been the movers in more than one ad- 
mirable and much needed reform; they have secured 
the promulgation of laws which have contributed to 
the moral and physical improvement of women and 
children throughout the land ; they have tended to 
set up a higher standard of public morality; they 

185 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

have forced discussion of subjects of genuine im- 
portance, which, however, were neglected because the 
rulers of the "superior" sex had other matters to 
take up their attention. 

It is recognized that they have contributed very 
greatly to the development and amelioration of edu- 
cation. The instruction of the larger number of 
the children is in their hands, and in higher insti- 
tutions of learning they occupy positions won by 
merit and retained by capacity. They have, by 
persistent and unceasing effort, accomplished much 
in the uplifting of moral standards, in the promotion 
of temperance and purity. Their record, as reform- 
ers, is simply superb, and their work in that direc- 
tion is yet far from being done. They have origin- 
ated and carried out schemes, of the most practical 
kind, for the alleviation of suffering and poverty: 
the college settlements in all the large cities do an 
amount of good which one may sneer at but which 
is undeniable. They are one of the strongest mo- 
tive forces in the extension of the benefits of ap- 
plied Christianity, and they daily give proof of that 
spirit of self-denial and self-sacrifice for which their 
sex has been famous in all ages and in all countries. 

There is more. The American woman, well edu- 
cated, well informed, interested in innumerable and 
diverse subjects, has fitted herself to be a comrade to 
man. Her attractiveness and charm lie no longer only 
in her power to please the eye ; her intellectual quali- 
ties commend her to the serious consideration of 
man. She can discuss topics which interest men, as 
she can talk delightfully on points of especial at- 

186 



WOIVIAN 

traction to women. She can take part in conversa- 
tions on the most serious themes, and she can lead 
the talk into channels of gaiety. She is richer in- 
tellectually than she was in other times, and more 
generally so. 

It is the rule, in the United States, and not the 
exception, to meet women who can hold their own in 
any discussion, and this fact lends a charm and im- 
parts an interest to the intercourse with them which 
are lacking in the converse with the merely well 
brought-up girl or woman who was bound by conven- 
tion to ignore so much. The man who prefers to 
consort with his recognized inferiors is not the man 
who is well thought of; the man who seeks the so- 
ciety of those who are his superiors mentally, and 
profits by it, is the one who himself will rise. This 
is generally acknowledged, and the habit is encour- 
aged. Yet, singularly enough, the opposite is at 
the root of the tradition concerning woman. If she 
be, as is still held by so many, inferior to man, the 
latter's avowed liking for her society and compan- 
ionship reflects upon him. But she is not, save in so 
far as circumstances have made her so, and her pres- 
ent effort to attain complete equality should enlist 
sympathy and aid rather than ridicule and opposi- 
tion. 

But even in advanced America it is very hard for 
her to win at all points. It is customary to speak 
of the American as particularly chivalrous in his 
bearing toward women. Yet that same American in- 
sists as we do here upon making a marked difference 
in the retribution for precisely analogous work per- 

187 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

formed on the one hand by men, on the other by 
women. The number of women teachers greatly ex- 
ceeds that of men teachers. Very many of the 
women have attained high distinction as instructors, 
both in their pedagogical and in their administrative 
work ; none the less the scale of salaries for women is 
calculated on a lower basis than are the salaries 
paid to men. 

It is difficult for a woman of proved ability and 
efficiency to obtain a position as high as a man can 
secure without the least trouble. The prejudice is 
stiU extant, still vigorous, and although it has time 
and again been proved unfounded, it persists and 
a man is given the post which the woman had every 
right to look for. Very nearly three-fourths of all 
the teachers in the United States are women, yet the 
highest prizes in the profession are still largely re- 
served, and jealously reserved for men. This is a 
condition which the women naturally object to and 
which cannot continue much longer, the palpable in- 
justice of it being too great. And, in the long run, 
the democratic sense of the people refuses to tolerate 
injustice. 

The desire for education among women is genuine 
and startling. It not only manifests itself in the 
attendance at the institutions designed expressly and 
exclusively for them and in their resorting to those 
colleges and universities where co-education is the 
rule; it is also visible in the fact that the majority 
of listeners at public courses are women. Among 
the educational agencies which have done so much, 
and are still doing so much for the intellectual ad- 

188 



WOMAN 

vancement of the Americans, and which include the 
press as well as the schools and universities, the 
lecture platform must be counted as one of the most 
important. The people generally are anxious to be 
informed on man}^ subjects, and in the remote coun- 
try districts as in the populous cities, the lecturer 
is a welcome guest, bringing, as he does, the food 
ardently craved by the American mind. 

Now, at pubhc lectures, the much larger portion 
of the audience is invariably composed of women. 
Not women attracted by a passing curiosity, al- 
though no doubt there are some of that class, but 
women earnest in their desire to acquire further in- 
formation and instruction, women who feel the need 
of mental food, and who gladly avail themselves of 
the opportunities put in their way. In the large 
cities, the audiences thus gathered are among the 
most interesting which a lecturer can meet. Appre- 
ciative, quick to respond, able to follow the develop- 
ment of the theme, keen in their criticism, and, on 
the whole, sound in their judgment, it is a pleasure 
and a stimulus to speak before them. It is the 
women, as has already been said, who in great meas- 
ure contribute to the esthetic culture of the race. 
It is on them that it mainly depends and will continue 
to depend until the "nobler" sex can afford to spare 
some of the time devoted to the providing of daily 
bread or the acquisition of wealth to the pursuit of 
other things. 

That there are results of this eagerness for knowl- 
edge not entirely satisfactory is not to be wondered 
at. Pedantry and affectation make their appearance 

189 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

as an inevitable consequence of the cult of knowledge. 
The "wearisome woman" is far from being unknown 
to the public lecturer, but she is after all a minute 
minority. The bulk of the women who attend the 
public lectures are sincerely anxious to obtain in- 
formation, and that not for the purpose of parad- 
ing it, but simply in order to broaden their minds, 
to quicken their understanding, to enable themselves 
to better appreciate and understand the problems of 
life with which they are continually in cohtact, to 
make themselves worthier companions of their hus- 
bands, their brothers, their sons, their friends. 

And they succeed ; of that there is not the remotest 
doubt. The average American woman can talk in- 
telligently on just the subjects which interest the 
"lords of creation," and she talks with a vivacity and 
a grace and a charm which recall the legendary 
women of the French salons of the seventeenth and 
eighteenth centuries. 

The young American girl is different from her 
European sister ; she is more independent, more self- 
reliant, more defiant of conventions and traditions. 
She is the fruit of the society from which she springs, 
in which she has been educated, in which she has 
learned, from childhood, to be independent and to 
think for herself. She is not the European type; 
she is unlike the French jeune fille or the English 
maiden; she very often lacks the peculiar sweetness 
which marks the latter; she has not the retenue of 
the former. But she cannot be like them; she be- 
longs to a different race and has felt other influ- 
ences. She is the American girl, able to take care 

190 



WOMAN 

of herself, impatient of domination, full of the 
sense of her right to equality with all men, and 
prepared to make her own way in the world if need 
arise. 

She has inspired the journalist, the novelist, the 
illustrator; she has furnished the world with a new 
emanation of woman, distracting in many respects, 
singularly attractive, distinctly different, wildly ad- 
mired by many, reproachfully considered by some ; a 
being combining the winsomeness of the English girl 
with the startling novelty of her own land. That is 
the type; there are many varieties of it, and also, it 
must be said, every American girl one meets does not 
come up to the model. But there are very many who 
do, and the rest approach it as closely as they may. 
Among the refined and well-bred, the type produces 
results absolutely bewildering in their charm ; among 
the less educated and less refined, it creates an air of 
style which is itself very taking. 

This is due, in part, to the prevailing repetition 
of modes in cheaper forms. All women, no matter 
what their rank in the social scale, wear about the 
same cut of garments, and follow the same fashions. 
There is no dress distinctive of rank or district for 
there is no distinction of rank, and all districts are 
permeated by the influence of the department store 
and the wholesale houses which turn out "costumes" 
in millions. The materials differ, but the general 
effect of them is the same. And the spreading of 
the most recent modes by the press, for the Sunday 
paper especially devotes much attention to the 
Woman's Page, enables the girl in any part of the 

191 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

country to imitate her richer and more fortunate 
sisters. 

Nor is she held back by any Old World idea of 
convention, of certain fashions being suited to the 
town and others to the country : she boldly appropri- 
ates them all, and turns out attired in the latest 
style to meet her swain or to attend service. And 
the effect, in the cities, at any rate, is satisfactory. 
The effort to be stylish, smart, calls out in the girl 
qualities that else would be uncultivated. There are 
painful and regrettable results, at times, and the 
love of dress is too powerful with some, but on the 
whole it is pleasant to see the neatness and trimness 
of the innumerable women who flock in the streets, 
who issue from the lofty office buildings, who emerge 
in hundreds from the stores. The general care of 
the person is noticeable, and that attention to per- 
sonal appearance is not without its beneficial effect 
upon the mental attitude of the woman. 

One feels continually, in the United States, the 
truth of the great principle of opportunity offered 
to all; one feels it in the case of women as in that of 
men. It is intelHgible how a girl who has begun life 
in a factory can rise to be a woman of society, in 
the wide sense given to that word in that country. 
In the atmosphere of freedom in which she lives, the 
American woman develops and expands. She has 
the consciousness that no rank is beyond her reach, 
and if there be frivolous women there as elsewhere, 
there are certainly more who take life seriously and 
look upon it as something to be used to the utmost. 
That is because there is no strong class tradition to 

192 



WOMAN 

hold woman down, and if men have benefited by the 
fact, women are equally improving under it. 

The European misses many things to which he is 
accustomed; he is offended by many manifestations 
of a spirit unlike the spirit of his land; he cannot 
stomach, very often, the independence and freedom 
which continually obtrude upon him in manifestations 
very apt to be unpleasant at first, and he is often 
inclined to criticize sharply the attitude and man- 
ners of the American — and at times with justice. 
But these offensive demonstrations, which the truest 
Americans regret and blame, are no more than the 
inevitable consequence of the transition from a con- 
dition of practical subjection and inferiority to a 
state of freedom and equality. The more the posi- 
tion of woman, the more her status in society rises, 
the less will these points obtain the importance they 
not infrequently have at present. The change is 
great, and it is bound to affect some unfavorably, as 
every change does. 

The Marchioness of Rambouillet and the ladies 
who frequented her celebrated salon called down 
upon themselves the animadversion and ridicule of 
their contemporaries ; the greatest of comic writers 
poured upon them a flood of fun and sarcasm, care- 
fully selecting the shafts that would tell most surely, 
yet the influence of the Marchioness is now recog- 
nized to have been one of the great civilizing and 
refining forces of the seventeenth century. The 
crusade she led has had results that have proved last- 
ing, and it is the same with the change now taking 
place in the United States among women: it will 

19S 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

surely manifest itself one of the most beneficial not 
to women alone but to men as well, for in our modern 
society the greater the respect for women, the higher 
their position, the better the men are. The Influ- 
ence of woman can but ameliorate many conditions 
yet requiring reform, and it is one of the most in- 
teresting of the many interesting topics, this of the 
growth of the movement for the equality of woman in 
every respect. The fears entertained by some — by 
many, it may as well be conceded — that the further 
emancipation of the sex will prove harmful to both, is 
not borne out by history. Nowhere has the uplift- 
ing of woman borne evil fruits while, on the other 
hand, wherever she has been and is kept in subjection 
or in a state of distinct inferiority, the results are 
invariably harmful to man himself. 

In the end, there is no loss of womanliness in the 
education of women and in the fitting of them to 
take their place by the side of their brother man 
rather than beneath him. The virtues and the pe- 
culiar qualities of woman do not appear, to an ob- 
server in the land, to have been diminished or de- 
stroyed by the development of the intellectual facul- 
ties or by the raising of the social and political 
standard of the sex. They are inherent in woman, 
and have found, in the United States, as in Eng- 
land, expression in works meritorious in every re- 
spect. All that has been accomplished by women 
in the old country and in the new speaks loudly in 
their favor. Benevolent institutions are most deeply 
indebted to them, and may owe their very existence 
to them. They have had great influence upon the 

194. 



WOMAN 

(ievelopment of education along sensible lines ; they 
possess, in many States, the right to vote for mem- 
bers of the school boards, and are eligible themselves 
to serve upon these administrative bodies. All that 
interests the home, the family, the morals of the com- 
munity, has attracted them, and their interest in 
these questions has been of the most practical char- 
acter. They have already proved their ability and 
their intelligence ; no one need fear that in the fur- 
ther progress of the sex to the inevitable perfection 
of equality the finest qualities of woman will suffer. 
They have not suffered so far, as anyone truly ac- 
quainted with American women is well aware, and 
there is no possible reason for imagining that recog- 
nition of the fact that the uplifting of man must be 
concurrent with the uplifting of woman will work 
harm to the one or the other. The United States 
has accomplished wonders in many ways ; it will 
yet exhibit to the world a community in which no 
distinction is made between the sexes in respect of 
all natural rights, as it already offers the cheering 
spectacle of a land where class distinctions find it 
impossible to obtain a real foothold and to repress 
the just ambition of the citizen of every degree. 



XII 

THE GOLDEN CALF 

The ancient Hebrews had scarcely made their exit 
from the land of Egypt laden with the spoils of their 
late tyrants, than they proceeded to give a public 
manifestation of a characteristic trait, and to cele- 
brate joyfully their love for and adoration of gold. 
The dance round the Golden Calf, the false god, has 
remained famous in history, and the sarcastic an- 
tagonist of the Semitic race finds in it, even to-day, 
a weapon against the much-maligned and ever-per- 
secuted Hebrew. Yet, in all fairness, if the Jew loves 
money even as his own soul — which is not to be 
wondered at since it has been, all through Christian 
times, at once his peril and his protection — is it not 
plain that the Christian in general has exliibited and 
exhibits now an equal passion for the precious metal .f* 
The very motive of the brutal and unjust persecu- 
tion of the scattered race has been the Christian's 
greed of gold; and as he found it more convenient 
to rob the Jew than to earn the wealth he coveted, 
he tortured, burned and quartered him as his re- 
ligious fancy suggested. 

The American of to-day dislikes the Israelite, who 
flourishes within his gates, and threatens to found a 

196 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

New Jerusalem within New York itself. The Amer- 
ican refuses to herd with the Hebrew in the vast 
caravanseries whither he flocks in winter as in sum- 
mer. He proclaims his infinite superiority to the 
accursed race of Shylocks, and will neither eat nor 
drink with the members thereof. The American is 
a Christian, and a good Christian may not, in his 
opinion, mingle with the descendants of David. Be- 
sides, the latter are such bitter rivals in the race for 
wealth. They push themselves in everywhere; they 
control banks ; they "run" great department stores ; 
they enter the directorates of companies ; every- 
where, in everything they manage to worm their 
way. There is not a form of business, not a chance 
to make money but the trail of the Hebrew is over 
it all. Hence the distaste is intelligible. No man 
ever loved a rival, much less a successful rival, and 
the Hebrew is singularly successful in the United 
States. 

It might be deduced, from this antipathy, so 
strong that it compels notice, that the American is 
not a money lover ; that it is his repugnance for the 
coarseness of materialism, for the crudity of fortune- 
making which impels him to repel the Israelite. 
Alas ! it is not so, but in part, jealousy. For the 
American above all ideals has set up for the time 
the acquisition of wealth as the touchstone of suc- 
cess. In Old Europe one still asks, of a newcomer: 
*'What is his family?" for birth and connections have 
not lost their hold ; but in America it is : "What is 
he worth .P" Money is a great god to whom the 
masses, high and low, bow down in adoration. Money 

197 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

is the scale by which everything is measured. To 
have money, or to appear to have it, is the aim of 
numberless Americans, It is of the wealth of the 
country in general and of the individual in particular 
that people speak first and most of the time. It is 
the utterly wealthy who are to the masses, the real 
heroes of the national legend and the national imag- 
ination. The rich man holds the place, in the mod- 
ern American civilization, which the greater warrior 
held in Europe during the Middle Ages ; the press 
and the orator and the demagogue speak of the coal 
baron, of the trust magnate. The very titles, er- 
roneously supposed to be held in abhorrence because 
they were used to designate the mighty in the old 
lands of Europe, are employed here to distinguish 
the rich. In the popular mind a great President, a 
Washington, a Lincoln, a Roosevelt, are certamly 
men to be proud of, and they are spoken of with 
some respect and admiration, but with nothing of 
the fervor, of the ardent satisfaction evoked by a 
"Jupiter" Pierpont Morgan, a Rockefeller, a Harri- 
man, a Vanderbilt or a Gould. The ex-boss Croker, 
who has steadily and consistently refused to reveal 
the origin of his vast fortune, has been an object of 
envy to thousands. If they only knew the secret for 
the transmutation of — what.'' — into gold, how eager- 
ly they would apply it! Carnegie, with his untold 
millions and his libraries carted round the whole 
country, attracts men of "light and leading" who 
would not turn round to look at a celebrity of less 
wealth. 

The man who can help others to make money is a 
198 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

benefactor; he can always have his court of adula- 
tors and flatterers. Let him be an inventor, who dis- 
covers new applications of the secrets of nature to 
the industries of the country, or a speculator, bold, 
venturesome, loud-tongued — no matter, the people 
will flock after him, for he holds, or they think he 
holds, the key to the treasure house. Every "get- 
rich-quick" scheme, however preposterous, however 
evidently a swindle, attracts thousands and thou- 
sands. This is not confined, it is true, to the United 
States, for everywhere and at all times men have 
coveted riches, but it is more markedly the case there 
than anywhere else. In vain does the more serious 
portion of the press warn the public against these 
enterprises ; in vain does the government invoke the 
aid of law to check them ; they continue to flourish 
because public opinion is back of them, because pub- 
lic and private greed are leagued together to foster 
them, because most men long with all the strength 
of their nature to acquire, quickly, easily, wealth and 
yet more wealth. 

And wealth is needed to maintain the appearances 
of wealth. INIoney must be found in some manner or 
other to enable the free and independent American 
to enjoy all the luxuries, all the pleasures which civil- 
ization is continually evolving. The poorest devil 
must have his automobile, for the rich have theirs, 
and it would not be seemly that they alone should 
enjoy the new mode of transportation and excite- 
ment. Mortgage and credit are taxed to the utmost 
to satisfy the ambition to seem richer than one 
really is ; to give the impression of plutocracy. The 

199 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

clerk and the shop-girl out for the day must have the 
outward air of glorious luxury and splendid envir- 
onment. Nothing less than the best, or what resem- 
bles the best, will satisfy even the man whose income 
plainly forbids indulgence in aught but the cheap and 
ugly. All must at least appear to stand on the same 
plane; there can be no outward token of difference 
between members of the same commonwealth, and if 
thrift and honesty suffer in carrying out this cher- 
ished ambition, at all events personal desire for show 
is satisfied. 

For thrift and honesty are often swamped, in the 
mad struggle for money, and in the rivalry for ex- 
ternal seeming of riches. Dishonesty is rampant, 
and not a day passes but the press announces yet 
another defalcation, yet another bankruptcy, yet an- 
other embezzlement, yet another theft. The trusted 
head of an institution turns out to be a scoundrel, 
and no one is particularly surprised; the president 
of a bank is discovered to have made away with its 
funds and to have betaken himself to a foreign clime — 
no one is startled, for the occurrence is far from be- 
ing an uncommon one; the honored director of some 
religious society dies, and it is found that he has dis- 
sipated its funds, leaving widows and orphans to 
want. These things are not extraordinary ; they are 
commonplaces of life in the United States. The 
courts and the police have innumerable examples of 
them coming daily within their ken, and yet others 
are hushed up, covered and concealed. Men want 
money, want it badly, and take any steps that sug- 
gest themselves to obtain it. Honesty, as the word is 

200 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

understood, has suffered a singular eclipse in the 
hustling life of the present. 

American ingenuity is famous in the arts and 
sciences ; it should be more famous yet in the art 
and science of making money somehow. For no- 
where has the process been more sedulously culti- 
vated; nowhere has it been carried to such a pitch 
of perfection — nefarious perfection too often. 
Studied with infinite pains, it produces results that 
amaze the older world and delight the inhabitants 
of the new, who see in this a further testimony to 
their superiority to the effete nations of Europe. 
It is not an enviable superiority. Rascals and sharp- 
ers abound in the Old World, and dishonest men and 
fraudulent bankrupts are, unhappily, far from un- 
known. But, at least, there is not the glamor of 
success attached to their names and their records. 
A scoundrel is a scoundrel in the Old World ; in the 
New he is very apt to be termed simply a "mighty 
smart man." The fact that a man has stolen a very 
large sum of money is taken by the gold-hungry as 
a proof of his talents ; they are talents, no doubt, 
but not of the kind that in a decent community 
should win any form of praise. There are, it should 
in justice be said, not only a very great majority of 
absolutely honest men in the country, but also very 
many papers, that set their face against the applause 
too willingly and too freely bestowed on the success- 
ful rascal. There is a portion of the press which 
steadfastly refuses to honor the scoundrel, no mat- 
ter how large his stock of milhons, which strives 
with might and main to imbue the public with a 

201 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

clearer conception of right and wrong, and which 
preaches the doctrine that there cannot be one mor- 
ahty for the successful plunderer on a large scale 
and for the petty pilferer whom the police courts 
send unhesitatingly to prison. 

But it is very difficult for that portion of the 
press and that leaven of honest men to make headway 
against the tremendous force of the influences at 
work to debauch and corrupt the public and the 
private conscience alike. Corruption is rife every- 
where. It is met with in public institutions, where 
it breeds under the most favoring conditions ; it is 
found in municipal government, which has been de- 
clared by one of the leading observers and thinkers 
in America to be a standing failure; it is encum- 
bered in the State government and State legislatures, 
which are notoriously subject to the influence of 
money; and it finds its way even into the depart- 
ments of the Federal Government, where it preys 
upon the resources of the nation. 

Money is power, and the power acquired by money 
is ruthlessly used to acquire greater wealth. Not 
all the types of gold-hoarding, gold-loving misers 
which the genius of writers has ever evolved, ap- 
proach the types of money-seeking and money-get- 
ting men who have attained fame and fortune in the 
United States. The most astounding ingenuity is 
manifested in the framing of schemes destined to en- 
rich the few at the expense of the many. The trusts 
have swollen to such proportions that they have be- 
come a menace to law and order, and threaten the 
very existence of the democratic principle itself. 

202 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

The noble old ideals of the American commonwealth 
have been sadly shattered during this recent period. 
The freedom which the Constitution guarantees to 
every man has been turned into a mockery so hollow 
that none are now to be deceived by it. The pluto- 
crat has become an aristocrat and a tyrant ; he looks 
on himself as a being above the law, and not Louis 
XIV himself, in the proudest days of his absolute 
monarchy, entertained and expressed greater belief 
in himself or held in greater certainty the subjection 
of all men to him. 

Money is worshiped in every land; in the United 
States it is the very breath of life to a great number. 
It is sought for in every country; in America the 
gold-hunger is developed to an extent that appals 
the observer. Gold has become the god of a part 
of that world, and to obtain it there are men who 
sacrifice principle and honor and reputation. Suf- 
ficient it is if they in return secure some share of 
the prosperity which through misapplication afflicts 
the land, and saps the very basis of the national 
ideals. 

There are heard voices in protest, often in indig- 
nant, in burning protest against this perversion of 
a thing good in itself, but infinitely bad in excess, 
but these protests are too often unheeded and un- 
heard. When men are so busy "making their pile," 
they have neither time nor attention to spare for the 
moralists, the patriots who would warn them of the 
consequences of this madness. Those who preach 
thrift and honesty are not listened to; those who 
proclaim with brazen voices that they possess the 

203 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

secret of speedy wealth at once gain a hearing. A 
man goes into bankruptcy and emerges better off 
than before; he has shaken off his creditors, and 
starts upon a new course of money making. He re- 
peats the performance, and manages to obtain credit 
and business, to the surprise of those who are not 
aware of the methods employed by such gentry. In 
France, bankruptcy entails dishonor; in America, 
in spite of laws framed to protect the honest creditor, 
bankruptcy does not place a stigma on the man. 
There are those who have twice, yea, thrice, taken 
this mode of escaping their obligations, who yet are 
received, dealt with, and, after a fashion, honored. 

That money is often used, after being obtained by 
means not too savory, for beneficent purposes, is a 
fact. The millionaire who has ruined thousands, who 
has wrecked homes, devastated business, driven men 
and women to despair, and even to suicide, becomes a 
public benefactor, and distributes with lavish hand 
large sums to church organizations, to colleges and 
universities, to scientific societies, to charitable or- 
ganizations. He is lauded for his generosity ; decor- 
ated with honorary degrees by some universities, 
which rival each other in courting his favor; ban- 
queted and interviewed; his story related by an ob- 
sequious press, which glosses over the incidents of 
his career; he is sought for on many hands, and he 
feels that success and wealth are sure opiates for 
the public conscience. But that money has not 
changed its origin in changing its destination. What 
the multi-millionaire, enriched at the expense of 
thousands of impoverished fellow-creatures, thus be- 

W4i 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

stows upon companies of men and women who believe 
themselves high-minded, is not of his necessity. His 
benevolence costs him nothing, for he is well aware 
that it is impossible for him, however lavish and ex- 
travagant, to spend upon himself all the gold he has 
squeezed out of other men's pockets. His generosity 
is forced, in a way; the money has to be got rid of; 
it cannot go on accumulating indefinitely; it is ever 
breeding and bringing forth more money, and the 
simplest plan therefore is to purchase with it that 
consideration and honor which are to be readily ob- 
tained from the hungry mob ever clamorous for 
gold and gold and gold. 

He need not fear many refusals : there are few 
establishments which will hesitate even for an in- 
stant to accept what has now become classic under 
the name of "tainted money." Gold is the test of 
manhood, with many of them ; the proof of superior- 

Nor are the churches more delicate in their sense 
of honor. They are not, as a rule, members of that 
ancient communion which, during the Middle Ages, 
exploited with such remarkable skill the fears of the 
great among the innumerable company of sinners, 
and thus secured the building of cathedrals, abbeys, 
priories, monasteries, the endowing of all these in- 
stitutions with large grants of land and sums of no 
small magnitude. But if their tenets are different in 
matters theological, their practice in matters tem- 
poral is substantially similar. They do not hesitate 
to sanctify the money wrung from others by dedicat- 
ing it to what they are pleased to term the service of 

205 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

God. So long as it is into their treasury that the 
dollars are poured, their condemnation of usury and 
theft on a gigantic scale is hushed. They have no 
reproaches for the man who enriches them; they 
pray for him and laud him from their pulpits. They 
will never be at a loss to discover in him all the 
noblest and finest qualities of human nature, and 
those indications of something essentially and pe- 
culiarly divine which may be translated into plain 
speech as: "He has given us a lot!" 

Who shall wonder, then, with these examples prom- 
inently brought before them, that the bulk of the 
people should be a prey to a consuming thirst for 
gold, and should believe in all good faith that money 
surpasses charity itself since the latter, at the best, 
covers only a multitude of sins, while money covers 
every one of them — and does more : transforms them 
into virtues and meritorious acts? Who can feel 
surprise that dishonesty is encouraged and thrift 
condemned when the lavish use of gold, obtained by 
means that are condemned in the pilferer and lauded 
in the great stealer, bestows upon the "benefactor" 
the applause of institutions of learning and the ad- 
miring blessings of the company of the pious? If 
all that is needed in order to secure these tangible 
evidences of well-doing, evolved from evil-doing, be 
to perform the operations of fleecing on a large 
scale, who can wonder that men should essay to at- 
tain equal distinction? 

It is in innumerable ways that this absorbing pas- 
sion for the making of money manifests itself and 
that the worship of money is encouraged. Pride in 

206 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

the fact that such and such men, multi-miUionaires, 
are inhabitants of a particular town or city reveals 
itself in the publication of their names on every 
possible opportunity. The stranger who is being 
driven about the place to see the sights is invariably 
informed that "here lives So-and-So, one of the rich- 
est men in this section." "And here dwells another, 
who made his pile in so many years, and is now 
contemplating entering the Senate, for he has the 
wherewithal to do so." "Here is the present home 
of one who not so long ago lived in a sort of shack, 
and now has a palace," the architecture of which 
is as startling as the owner's rise to fortune. The 
local press annually publishes the list of "largest 
tax-payers," so that the man in the street may ap- 
preciate how wealthy are the residents among whom 
his lot is cast. Buildings and monuments are esti- 
mated not at their esthetic value, often considerable, 
but at their pecuniary cost. Such an one has in- 
volved an expenditure of one million ; this library 
cost five hundred thousand dollars ; that museum 
three times as much; this schoolhouse two hundred 
thousand; this hotel a fabulous sum; this statue, 
which makes the artistic grieve, so much. 

People, especially the wealthy lacking in sense of 
the fitness and proportion of things, estimate the ar- 
tistic worth of any production simply by the price 
the dealer puts upon it. The latter can tell of in- 
numerable instances in support of this affirmation. 
A superb screen, a marvel of art, was refused be- 
cause the price asked for it did not satisfy the ex- 
igencies of the purchaser. The amount of money 

207 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

paid would not impress the visitors to that home 
of "elegance and culture," and therefore an uglj 
screen, immediately marked up mentally to half as 
much again, was substituted and eagerly bought. It 
is the cost and not the real worth of the object which 
in the United States as elsewhere, indeed, appeals 
to the man desirous of showing off, of making his 
neighbors believe him one of the elect. The vulgar 
display of diamond rings, diamond studs, diamond 
scarf pins is but an outcome of that longing for 
show of wealth which pervades more particularly the 
unbred and ill-educated class, still the most numerous 
one in the land. But it is more or less apparent in 
all stratas of American society, and the loud osten- 
tation, the lavish exhibition of glittering jewelry is 
to be noticed in the most "aristocratic" as in the 
most plebeian. 

When the late President McKinley uttered his dic- 
tum that what is cheap is nasty, he expressed the 
inmost belief of countless thousands of his fellow- 
Americans. Lavishness and extravagance, the pay- 
ing of absurd prices for what is not worth a fourth 
of the money; these are habits now strongly im- 
planted in the character of the majority of the 
people, and it will take time to eradicate them and to 
substitute saner views of wealth and a conception of 
the value of thrift and simplicity. 

The delight in squandering money is universal. 
The very institutions of learning are not free from 
it. It is visible in the habits of the schoolboys and 
schoolgirls, of the students in the colleges and uni- 
versities. In the pursuit of sport it is manifest: 

208 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

money is the one great object, and the sport Itself is 
made subsidiary to the gate receipts. The teams are 
thriftless and extravagant; for years the sums ex- 
pended in the annual training of a small number of 
football players in all the great universities, but 
notably in Harvard and Yale, attained proportions 
so great that at last even public opinion was aroused 
against a system which distorted sport and athletic 
sporting into a school for profuse expenditure and 
luxurious habits. The very essence and principle of 
sport disappeared, and men strove for superiority 
not for the sake of generous emulation and friendly 
competition, but for the sake of the large income 
obtained from a public eager to see the costly teams 
matched one against the other. The price for ad- 
mission rose steadily, until It acquired proportions 
which fairly staggered the believer in athletics, and. 
prevented the ordinary man from gratifying his de- 
sire to witness a clean struggle between two bands 
of high-spirited and honest young fellows. The 
speculator was prompt to avail himself of the chance 
offered him, and he reaped a golden harvest from 
the multitude which, because the price of admission 
was high, at once longed to behold the contest. It 
was not, and Is not, in very many cases, any interest 
in the sport Itself which causes the vast crowds to 
crush at the entrance gates : it is the feeling that a 
high-priced entertainment cannot be omitted from 
the list of enjoyments of the universally wealthy 
American. 

The close of the school career Is also made an oc- 
casion for show and expenditure. The children of 

209 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

people in less than moderate circumstances must 
cut a dash then, if they never do so again, and all 
manner of costs are heaped upon the parents. The 
girls must have graduation dresses, in which fitness 
and simplicity and inexpensiveness are to have no 
part; class pins must be purchased, class photo- 
graphs taken, flowers provided, and every element of 
ostentation and display must enter into the feast 
day, else would the girl feel herself disgraced and 
distanced by her fellows. 

Instances of this excessive love of display might be 
repeated endlessly. But to what end.'^ Anyone, any 
native of the country, can sum them up for himself. 
The evil Is patent, widespread, growing. It has at- 
tracted the attention of press, pulpit and public. It 
is an inevitable consequence of certain causes still at 
work, but which will not always be as powerful as 
they are at present. It is an ugly side of society as 
constituted in the United States ; it is not necessarily 
a permanent evil, and the day will come when men and 
women will leave to that small minority which is de- 
void of brains and possessed of money, the con- 
temptible part of displayers of wealth and bad taste. 
Even now hopeful signs are evident : a sense of fitness 
is leading very many to carefully avoid display; 
women, with an instinctive sense of what is becoming, 
are eschewing the wearing of jewelry at all hours, 
or of splendid toilets at all seasons. They are learn- 
ing to proportion, to distinguish, to select, and the 
result is as gratifying to them as it Is to the esthetic 
observer. They are beginning to set themselves 
apart from the vulgar affectation of gorgeousness, 

210 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

and betaking themselves to that sweet simplicity 
which is unattainable by the mass. The man of taste 
is becoming more frequent, and his dress marks him 
out from the vulgar and cheap dandy. 

The signs of reaction, it has been said, are already 
evident. The reaction is stronger and deeper than 
most persons suspect. Wealth is beginning to lose 
its glamor, to suffer a diminution of its power to 
blind and dazzle. There is a tendency to apply to 
the rich, to the plutocrat in particular, the universal 
test of fitness and worth. In the press, in private 
conversation, one notes a changing point of view : the 
rich man does not invariably command respect be- 
cause he is rich; he is being subjected to criticism, 
frequently adverse and biting; his methods are be- 
ing condemned ; his expenditures scrutinized ; his lav- 
ishness and extravagance derided. Not quite so 
easily as of yore does he obtain attention ; not so 
readily does he sin against the proprieties. Men are 
awaking to a truer perception of the real place 
wealth should hold in a democratic community ; they 
are beginning to appreciate the dangers which its 
over-accumiilation and its selfish administration nec- 
essarily entail. They are becoming more exacting, 
and in the right direction. 

No longer do they accept the plutocrat at his own 
estimate; they weigh him in the balance themselves, 
and are not surprised often to find him wanting. The 
public press reflects, guides and fosters this healthful 
condition ; it attacks fearlessly the merely rich who 
presumes upon his gold to violate every canon of de- 
cency and honesty. It is beginning to preach a 

211 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

sounder economic gospel, and with its tremendous in- 
fluence it is bound to have a profound effect upon 
opinion. All the press does not do this ; many 
papers are still in the thrall of the worship of the 
Golden Calf, but the number of those which have 
asserted their independence increases steadily. 
There will always be, in so vast a coun^^y as the 
United States, and among so mixed a population, 
flatterers of the merely rich, but the sound sense of 
the American — an invaluable quality apt to assert 
itself in a manner most disconcerting to those who 
have forgotten or neglected it — may be relied upon to 
correct the worst abuses. A public opinion is being 
formed; a sound opinion well directed, well enhght- 
ened, and with the power behind it that comes of 
education, of morality, of disinterestedness, of true 
patriotism. No one need despair of the Republic: 
the true ideas are manifesting themselves and will as- 
suredly gain the upper hand in time. For it takes 
time to alter habits and to inculcate new views of 
life. Rome was not built in a day, and a fever leaves 
the patient weak for a season. Democracy has suf- 
fered from the tremendous prosperity of the land and 
its inhabitants, and its vital principle has been 
checked to some extent; but it is vital, and will, be- 
yond peradventure, sway the masses as now it sways 
the small number of clear-sighted and right-thinking 
men. 

The plutocrats, the multi-millionaires themselves 
are getting glimpses of the light. More than one 
among them is endeavoring to solve the problem of 
the righteous administration of riches. Sons and 

212 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

daughters of men who amassed their wealth in ways 
which morahty condemns, while the law is helpless 
to punish, have abandoned the attempt, and wisely 
abandoned it, to solve the vexed question of how 
to undo the evil wrought by their sires. The evil is 
done, and can never be undone. The dramatist and 
the novelist may, in the free use of their imagination, 
and for the sake of the effect they can draw from 
a good situation, make the plunderer restore to his 
victims the money he once bereft them of; but in 
the real life of the present day such a course, how- 
ever poetic and ideally just, is practically impossi- 
ble. It is for the inheritors of that ill-gotten wealth 
to win forgiveness for deeds in which they had no 
share by just and wise use of the millions they have. 
And they are trying to make such use of it, and are 
giving themselves to the task with singleness of pur- 
pose and devotion and earnestness. They are doing 
good where those who went before did nil ; they can- 
not heal the wounds that were made, they cannot 
bind up the hurts that were inflicted, they cannot 
give back the lives that have been sacrificed, but, 
feeling their responsibilities, they are putting forth 
every effort to lighten the burdens of those around 
them, to bring a little sweetening into unhappy lives, 
to diminish the sum of poverty, and therefore of 
crime. 

Setting thus before a public whose intense curios- 
ity is ever awake an example of the wise and gener- 
ous use of riches, they are largely contributing to the 
better appreciation of the real use of vast fortunes 
and tending to diminish the hatred and jealousy ex- 

213 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

cited by the sight of colossal wealth obtained by 
methods that will not always bear examination. 
They are teaching the other rich that they have a 
duty to the community, and that immense fortunes 
involve responsibilities other than squandering and 
show. Above all, they are making manifest that the 
democratic spirit is quite consonant with wealth, 
and may, indeed, tend to a clearer understanding of 
the way to apply it for the general good and not 
alone for the private benefit and advantage of its 
possessors. 

There is abundant proof of this. All the great 
fortunes in the United States have not been made 
by unfair means, by oppression, by extinction of 
competitors, by methods that startle men when 
chance discovers them. Economy, carefulness, abil- 
ity, perseverance, have borne fruit there as here 
and rightly and justly so. If there are establish- 
ments, colossal hives of men, where they are ruth- 
lessly exploited, there are many where the life of 
the working-man and working-woman is pleasant 
and fortunate. If there are unscrupulous seek- 
ers after wealth, there are more upright and 
just toilers both among the employers and the em- 
ployed. 

And the use made of fortunes is, as a rule, not in 
the way of wild extravagance and senseless ostenta- 
tion, though much of both, as already said, exists ; 
but in that of benefit to the public. It was said the 
other day in one of our papers that no appeal ever 
goes unheeded in Great Britain, and that large as 
are the amounts subscribed to any given purpose, 

214 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

sums as large and larger are immediately forthcom- 
ing with the advent of a new call for aid. 

That is absolutely true, and in addition it must 
be remembered that there is an infinite number of in- 
stitutions in tliis country depending wholly or in 
large part upon private beneficence, the beneficence 
of the rich public, and of the moderately well off. 
There are no statistics to show the total amount thus 
dispensed year by year, nor need there be. The 
habit of generous giving is ingrained in the British 
people, and it is as deeply seated in the Amer- 
ican. 

In the United States as here countless benefactions 
remain unknown save to the beneficiaries ; gifts are 
made that the press, quick as it is to discover what- 
ever is being done or said, never suspects. There 
the left hand is kept quite as much in ignorance as it 
is with us. 

Of the gifts made for public purposes the list is 
unending. Let one series, one class of these serve 
as an illustration of the splendid bounty of the 
American. The universities and colleges are espe- 
cially singled out by benefactors, many of whom 
have and have had no connection with the institution, 
while others are graduates who thus testify to their 
enduring love for their Alma Mater. In one univer- 
sity only, that of Harvard, the funds annually avail- 
able in the form of scholarships and bursaries for 
undergraduates amount to over $75,000. In the 
Graduate School of Arts and Sciences the fellowships 
amount to nearly $40,000. And one gift of $55,000 
is to be added to that. These are two departments 

215 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

only; the other schools are not forgotten, though 
naturally the gifts to them are on a less liberal scale. 

Then there are the gifts from the classes, that is 
from the body of students graduated in any one year. 
These classes establish a fund which, after a certain 
term, is handed over to the University. Most of the 
buildings of the University are gifts, some from 
known, some from anonymous donors. And what is 
true of Harvard is true of Yale, Columbia, Cornell, 
Princeton, and the many other estabhshments of 
learning. 

As for institutions for research, for the alleviation 
of pain, for the succor of the distressed, for the pro- 
motion of laudable social purposes, the promotion of 
the realization of high ideals ; they are simply in- 
numerable. But they do not obtrude themselves 
upon the attention of the passing visitor; they are 
not advertised, and consequently their very existence 
is unsuspected by the stranger who is soon weary of 
the colossal skyscrapers and the magnificent rail- 
way stations in New York. Yet they exist, and are 
more deeply significant of the mind of America 
than one is apt to perceive at first. 

There is that form of benefaction which hides it- 
self, which one learns of by accident, and it is wide- 
spread. All the love of gold does not make every 
American its slave, and ostentation is as repugnant 
to thousands as it is dear to many. The infinitely 
sweet practice of giving is practiced with a skill 
and a consideration for the beneficiary which draws 
out the best in the heart of those privileged to know 
of it. 

216 



THE GOLDEN CALF 

The hospitality of the Americans is genuine. It 
is quite true that it is at times overpowering in its 
profuseness, but it would be a capital mistake to 
suppose that the lavishness and beauty which so 
often mark it are the outcome of a desire, even if 
unconscious, to brag, to exhibit the wealth and 
liberality of the entertainer. Undoubtedly there are 
such entertainments and the press duly records 
them, since the object would not be attained were 
not due publicity secured. But to assume there- 
fore that all American hospitality is but a manifes- 
tation of vainglory would be to fall into serious 
error. 

The American hospitality has for its mainspring 
a real, sincere and strong desire to treat the stranger 
within the gates to the best of everything. The 
American does not inform the guest that house and 
contents are his, which is only a grandiloquent way 
of speaking which deceives no one, the profferer 
least of all. The American actually puts himself 
and his at the service of his guest. He wants him 
to have the "best of times," to see everything, do 
everything and feel that he is thoroughly welcome. 
The dainty luncheon, the splendid dinner, are in 
honor of the guest, and it is to do him honor and 
not to vaunt or make vulgar display that everything 
is choice, everything luxurious. 

American hospitality is on a large and generous 
scale, but what makes it true hospitality is that it 
is sincere. The welcome is no perfunctory phrase, it 
is genuine. 

Americans do love money; they have that in 
217 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

common with the rest of the civilized races of the 
earth. They also know how to use it wisely and 
generously. They do not all worship the Golden 
Calf: they do make the Almighty Dollar their 
servant. 



XIII 
ART 

One of the traits which strike the dweller in the 
land more than the swiftly touring visitor is the 
curious lack of perception of true proportion and 
true value. The American, especially in the press, 
very often in books, and constantly in conversation, 
appears to attribute a wholly erroneous importance 
to mere size and mere costliness. The latter, of 
course, may be referred to the excessive worth which 
wealth has secured for itself in popular opinion, but 
the admiration for bigness in itself can scarcely 
be thus accounted for. Partly, perchance, it is due 
to the vast extent of the country; partly, to the 
juvenile habit, now being shaken off, of vaunting 
everything American in order to impress the hearer 
and beholder alike. But allowing largely for this, 
it does not explain the peculiarity, the cause of 
which seems rather to be a lack of a sense of real 
proportion, combined with a wrong standard of 
value. 

There are wonderful things in the United States, 
materially and intellectually, and the average man 
is perfectly ready to admire them as they deserve 
to be admired; but more is required of him: he 

219 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

must own, nay, he must proclaim aloud, he must cry 
and spare not, that these things are unrivaled, un- 
approached, because they are the biggest things of 
their kind. That is the wrong view; it is in this 
way that the erroneous standard of value manifests 
its influence. These wonders of the New World are 
admired by the intelligent man not because they are 
huge, big, great, unusual, but because they are char- 
acteristic, typical, informing, revealing the spirit 
and genius of the race, exhibiting the results of 
widely different conditions from those which pre- 
vail in the Old World. 

At present there is not, in the whole of the United 
States, a single erection which matches the Eiffel 
Tower in height. But it is not the height of that 
tower which has nearly reconciled the art world of 
Paris to its presence: it is the art in it, and the 
science in it, and the skill to which it bears testi- 
mony. The Eiffel Tower, which has a great beauty 
of its own, attracts attention not because it is so 
lofty: that is one part, but a part only, of the spell 
it exercises ; its main charm comes from its elegance, 
and from the triumph of engineering skill which it 
typifies. The mere material side does not win praise; 
the ideal does. The thought which conceived and 
carried out the project, and gave to the finished 
work the lightness and the grace which are now visi- 
ble, that is what one thinks of in contemplating the 
springing web-work of iron and steel. 

The American skyscraper is a much, and wrongly, 
abused emanation of the national genius. It deserves 
abuse, all the abuse it meets with and more yet, when 

220 



ART 

one is invited to marvel at it because it is composed 
of so many superimposed stories ; because in its con- 
struction so many tons of steel and stone and con- 
crete have entered; because it is simply higher than 
any of its predecessors. These considerations have 
nothing whatever to do with it as an expression of 
the American spirit. Height is to be met with 
everywhere; quantities of material are swallowed 
up in innumerable constructions ; buildings may be 
lofty and vast, yet remain absolutely expressionless, 
wholly meaningless. The mere height of the sky- 
scraper, the mere addition of floor above floor, does 
not confer upon the building any distinction what- 
ever. What makes the towering office building pro- 
foundly interesting is the fact that it is the solution 
of a problem of modern life, and that in evolving 
the solution the architect has evolved at the same 
time a typical form, which is possessed of beauty 
in its own right. The skyscraper is representative 
of American life, which is mainly commercial and 
industrial. It speaks at once to the mind of the 
man who beholds it for the first time ; it is significant 
of a civilization entirely diff'erent, in its radical as- 
pects, to the civilization of Europe, where tradition 
causes the retention, in so many cases, of forms out- 
worn and ideas long since grown old. 

The wealthy American builds himself town houses 
recalling the palaces of Italy; country homes in 
imitation of the chateaux of France and the stately 
homes of England; but he does not perceive that 
these are and must remain imitations. They do not 
embody the American genius ; they merely suggest — 

221 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and how imperfectly often — the genius of a foreign 
country and of a vastly different epoch. But when 
he comes to erect a business building, then the 
American launches into a field he has made peculiarly 
his own and in which he scores triumph after tri- 
umph. He then realizes in stone and steel and 
concrete the essential idea of his civilization, and the 
result is a construction unmatched in the Old World, 
and profoundly American, and therefore with a 
beauty and a truth that are evident and satisfying. 
To draw attention to the size of the building is to 
draw the attention away from the real value of the 
monument; the height, the slenderness, the soaring 
appearance of the upper tiers ; these are but parts 
of the whole, not the one thing which makes it re- 
markable and admirable. The lofty office building 
is interesting because it is an office building, and one 
destined to meet certain conditions. It expresses a 
deep idea, just as the old medieval fortresses and 
the cathedral express even now a state of civiliza- 
tion and a state of mind which have disappeared. 
The skyscraper is an impossibility to the wildest 
imagination if placed in fancy in the Middle Ages ; 
the cathedral and the medieval fortress are equally 
impossible nowadays. People build, at great ex- 
pense, churches on which they lavish ornament, and 
they call them cathedrals ; technically they are such ; 
in reality, in very sober truth, they are not. The 
day of the genuine cathedral passed away long ago, 
and all the present generation can do is to imitate 
the expression of a deep faith which is not to be met 
with in the special character it then had. But the 

222 



ART 

skyscraper is the triumphant and genuine and sin- 
cere expression of the American genius in commerce 
and business. It is a true, a genuine manifestation 
of a very present and very living faith, which is not 
religious faith, but is faith all the same. In this 
respect the lofty building has its value; not in the 
cost, not in the quantity of material, but in the out- 
ward and visible expression which it is of the feeling 
of a civilization. 

Even in the inability of the architect to make the 
exterior of his building beautiful and satisfactory to 
the esthetic taste — and the skyscraper is often la- 
mentably ugly — is typified that general absence of 
artistic feeling which is noted in America. 

Unquestionably this statement will provoke indig- 
nant protest. A country whose inhabitants spare 
no money when it is a question of acquiring master- 
pieces by artists whose names have become famous 
the world over ; a country where ornament flourishes 
lavishly upon all manner of constructions and erec- 
tions ; a country which is considered by Europeans 
to be rapidly stripping the galleries and residences 
of the Old World of their most cherished treasures, 
is and must be a country where the feeling for, 
and the understanding of, art are highly developed 
and thoroughly characteristic. 

Yet, modestly, humbly, regretfully, the statement 
is adhered to. 

The sense of beauty is not a characteristic of 
the American people ; it is not evident ; it exists 
ampng individuals, that goes without saying, but 
the people as a whole are devoid of it. And this 

22S 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

is seen even among cultured persons. There is the 
study of art ; there is collecting of masterpieces ; 
there is reproduction of others by means of casts, 
copies and photographs, but all that does not 
involve the existence of a sense. A single look at 
an American city suffices to convince one that 
beauty in itself is not sought for, either in the 
ensemble of the city or in the particular or indi- 
vidual buildings. There are handsome buildings ; 
but they are in a minority. Not only that, but 
they are side by side with erections that cause one 
to shudder. 

A pure democracy is not favorable to the develop- 
ment of high artistic sense. The mass in a democ- 
racy has vulgar tastes, which does not mean coarse 
tastes, but vulgar, ordinary, of low standard. The 
mass has not the appreciation of beauty, although it 
flatters itself that it is a judge of beauty. It knows 
it not; it does not understand it; does not perceive 
it when it beholds it. The mass has its own concep- 
tion of what beauty is, and that conception is pro- 
foundly erroneous. In a country where the mass is^ 
continually sending up recruits into the ranks of the 
patrons of art, there is but one result to be looked 
for : the domination of the bourgeois idea of art and 
of beauty. And that is precisely what one sees in 
the United States. Gorgeousness and expensiveness 
abound, but they are not beauty; size and vastness 
are continually forced upon one, but they do not 
constitute beauty. And the fact that these are the 
points on which stress is laid, from which gratifica- 
tion is derived, proves of itself the contention that 

2M 



ART 

the artistic sense is not part and parcel of the 
American intellectual make-up. 

Consider most of the railway stations in the 
United States: those at the great termini. How- 
many of them are anything but ugly? There are 
some where signs of improvement are visible, and 
there are now two in New York which stand out 
superbly; but take the general run of them. Take 
Boston, the City of Culture par excellence, and con- 
template its North Station and its South Station! 

Or rather don't! 

Travel along the lines of railway through the 
country; travel between the points which form the 
great centers of population and activity, and every- 
where, on either hand, before, behind, the most ex- 
quisite scenery is defaced, debased, degraded, de- 
stroyed by an efflorescence of commercialism, for it 
is commercialism and not art which is most typical 
of the United States in the present day. Enter 
the homes of many of the rich, and barbaric splen- 
dor appalls, but the true art sense is more conspicu- 
ous by its absence than by its presence. There are 
everywhere evidences of Avealth, but the testimonies 
of art sense are infrequent. It is only when the 
expression of the remarkable industrial and scientific 
skill manifests itself that unconsciously the art sense 
comes to the front. And not even then always, for 
how many bridges, for instance, are simply ugly! 
How many marvels of genius merel}"^ hideous ! 

The truth is the Americans have not, any more 
than the Anglo-Saxons, the innate feeling for art. 
They cultivate it with praiseworthy perseverance; 

225 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

they spend large sums in the pursuit of it; they 
collect with indefatigable earnestness specimens and 
masterpieces ; they gather together and exhibit in 
museums and galleries exquisite gems ; they pur- 
chase, even the poorer, photographs and casts, and 
adorn their dwellings with them; but they have not 
the natural appreciation, the genuine apprehension, 
of the beauty which lies hidden to the eye of the un- 
trained, of the unendowed. Side by side with beau- 
tiful things they unhesitatingly place appalling hor- 
rors, and they never suspect what they have done. 
The one and the other are equally satisfying; they 
constitute Art for them. Art is a commodity like 
candy or ice-cold soda; everyone can understand it, 
and apply it, and enjoy it. There does not occur to 
them the thought that some races have the artistic 
feeling and others lack it, and that they belong to 
the latter class. 

"Money can do anything," consequently, it can 
produce art. But that is the error. It does not; 
it produces nothing of the kind. It helps the artist, 
but the artist has to he, first and foremost, and by 
the side of the artist must be the public capable of 
appreciating his work, and finally there must be the 
artistic atmosphere, and that is not found. 

The ideal has not been pursued by the Americans, 
save in matters political, and even in these they 
have somewhat fallen away from the ardent love of 
it which was characteristic of the early days of the 
Union. Or, more correctly speaking, the problems 
have multiplied so fast and have become so pressing 
that it has not been possible to obtain as rapidly 

226 



ART 

and as completely, results such as the optimist nat- 
urally looks for. But in the realm of the ideal 
properly so called, they have made but few incur- 
sions. They have not produced a great poet, a 
great musician, a great painter, essentially Ameri- 
can — for Sargent is French, in large measure, Euro- 
pean ; a great sculptor, for Saint Gaudens is French 
too in his inspiration and training. Their love of 
these things is not an essential part of their nature, 
of their make-up ; it is usually added on, cultivated, 
often painfully and with much trouble. The desire 
is there, but it is not nationally realized. 

The explanation of the fact may be found in the 
changed conditions and in the lines which the peo- 
ple of the United States have been practically com- 
pelled to follow. Neither Greece nor Italy, the 
Italy of the Renaissance — both of wliich countries 
have given the world such marvelous realizations of 
the ideal — were situated exactly as the United 
States. A glance at the map of the country, a re- 
membrance of the astonishingly rapid growth of the 
Republic, a recalling of the swift progress in all 
matters material, industrial, commercial; of the tre- 
mendous, unceasing immigration which has con- 
tinued to bring into the country thousands and 
millions of strangers who have had to be molded 
into citizens ; the discoveries of illimitable natural 
resources and springs of wealth — these conditions 
are entirely different from those of the Grecian 
states or of the Italian republics and principalities 
where art flourished and created the marvels which 
even now stand as the highest types of the beautifuL 

227 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

*'In the days when Art was stiU religion," said 
Longfellow. And the American poet showed thus 
that he clearly perceived the impelling motive; a 
motive which has not existed and does not now 
exist in the United States. Art, with the Greek 
and the Italian, was part and parcel of the expres- 
sion of his national life : of his religion ; of his belief, 
ingrained, vital. The sense of beauty, the striving 
after the ideal, the seeking after the perfection of 
form, the manifesting in marble or metal or color 
the wonders beheld by the spiritual eye — these are 
not and have not been elements of the American 
character. It is not because the early settlers had 
to contend with the Redskins, later with the outer 
foe, later still with one another, when the country 
had become consolidated and was again on the verge 
of disruption; it is not because the state of war — 
on a small scale — was upon them. The Greeks and 
the Italians were far more continuously engaged in 
warfare, foreign and internecine, than ever were the 
inhabitants of the United States, yet Art grew and 
flourished exceedingly among them, and the bloody 
quarrels of factions within the cities, the rivalries 
and the bickerings and the jealousies, the fighting 
within and fears without, never for a day stayed 
the progress and development of the esthetic sense 
and its manifestation in wondrous masterpieces. 
The poets sang with clear voice songs that are 
immortal; the musicians made their strains heard; 
the architects created styles and reared impos- 
ing monuments ; the sculptors drew inspiration 
from the past and the present; the whole intellec- 

228 



ART 

tual and artistic life was rich, abundant, varied, 
superb. 

But in the United States nothing comparable 
has yet been seen, and while it is customary to speak 
of the country as young, it is that, only relatively 
to the older civilizations of Europe. And the civil- 
ization of the country was not itself young; it was 
the most highly developed civilization of the time, 
the civilization of Europe which was translated 
here. It had not to emerge, as that of the Old 
World, slowly and with difficulty from the ruins of 
an older one, swept almost completely away by the 
floor of Northern invasion. It had the inestimable 
advantage of being made ready to hand for the pur- 
poses to which, under new and different conditions, 
it was to be applied. It was an adaptable civiliza- 
tion; one that was susceptible of accommodating it- 
self to the altered situation — and it did so adapt 
itself. It was not, then, from lack of knowledge, 
of intelligence, that the esthetic sense did not assert 
itself in the New World ; the cause was different. 

The civilization which was transplanted to the 
shores of New England, to the coasts of Virginia and 
CaroHna, was the Anglo-Saxon civilization, and the 
informing spirit of it was Liberty, not Art. It was 
in the pursuit of liberty that the Pilgrims sought 
the shores of Massachusetts in bleakest winter, not 
in search of the beautiful in nature. Their whole 
mind was set on things spiritual and political, not 
on things esthetic. These, indeed, were rather ab- 
horred by them. The detestation of the forms, rites 
and ceremonies of a Church that had retained, even 

ft%9 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

after the Reformation, some traces of the sensual- 
ism, of the estheticism of the Roman worship, was 
not calculated to lure them to cultivation of the 
beautiful for its own sake. It was the beauty of 
the soul which they hungered for ; the beauty of the 
body, the loveliness of nature spoke not to them. 
And as their spirit, as their ideals spread — and all 
who have even a superficial knowledge of American 
Jiistory know how rapid was that spreading — so 
spread their lack of estheticism, their want of the 
sense of the beautiful in matters other than politics 
and religion — and a purely spiritual religion at 
that. 

Afterward came the marvelous, sudden develop- 
ment of the commerce and industries of the land, 
turning the minds of men toward wealth and profit, 
and not toward art. So the great bulk of the 
people set wealth first; they do so now, and to them 
anything artistic is but an emanation, a manifesta- 
tion of the possession of riches. They purchase 
paintings and statuary because these are accepted 
in the Old World as tokens of riches ; because the 
more remarkable products of the studio can become 
the property of the rich only, not because, in many, 
many cases, the owner has the remotest sense of the 
real value, the art value, of the objects which adorn 
his house and which find themselves in odd conjunc- 
tion with the ugly and the commonplace. 

The American stock is Anglo-Saxon, and the 
Anglo-Saxon race has not the art sense, the art 
power, to the same extent as the Latin race. This 
does not mean that England has not produced art- 

230 



ART 

ists of great worth, but that the fundamental love 
for and understanding of art is not an element of 
the character of the race. Nor is it an element 
of the American character as constituted at the 
present time. Whether it will enter into that char- 
acter as the mingling of races goes on, as the influ- 
ence of the innumerable Latins coming into and 
settling upon the land makes itself felt — as it must 
do in the course of time — is a question to which, 
at this moment, it would be difficult, if not impos- 
sible, to give an answer. 

There will arise an American art, that goes with- 
out saying; an art which will incarnate and mani- 
fest the ideals of the new race, but it is not in the 
least likely that it will bear much relation to what 
Europeans are accustomed to call by that name. 
That is, the sources of inspiration will necessarily 
be different, and if it be possible to conciliate the 
ideal and the practical in poetry, in music, in paint- 
ing, in sculpture — which it is permissible to doubt — 
then American art, when it has found itself, will 
probably develop along these lines. American archi- 
tecture already exists, and it is not that of the 
Congressional Library, nor the buildings of Colimibia 
University, nor of the numerous Capitols and State 
Houses throughout the land — that is an art copied 
and often very badly copied from that of Europe — 
but an American architecture which will be mainly 
industrial, commercial, residential in its application. 

The French influence is likely to be the strongest 
in shaping this development, and naturally so, for 
there is much intellectual kinship between the pres- 

231 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ent-(iay American and the Frenchman. Further, the 
influence of French art, with its hghtness, its grace, 
its thoroughness, is exactly what the Americans 
need. The French race is eminently an idealistic 
race, while it is also exceedingly practical. But the 
idealistic prevails, and that is where the American, 
in art, is just now deficient. To him art is still 
the handmaid of industry, of wealth; it is not, or is 
scarcely, cultivated and sought after for its own 
sweet sake. The Frenchman loves art for art's sake ; 
for the sake of the intimate intellectual joy it gives 
to its votaries, and that is one of the reasons why 
the Frenchman is so singularly successful in com- 
bining the artistic and the practical. He has man- 
aged to overcome in large measure the countervail- 
ing influence of the bourgeois, and he has educated 
all classes in an innate love of the beautiful. 

This is what is needed in the democratic United 
States, where the love of art in all its forms is aca- 
(demic rather than genuine. They are sincere 
enough, are the Americans, in their worship of art; 
they are quite in earnest in their pursuit of musical 
knowledge; they are really anxious to understand 
and appreciate the value of painting and sculpture ; 
their attention is easily drawn to the rich and beau- 
tiful in applied art, as witness the collections in 
their museums and in private homes. But for all 
that the impression is strong that the feeling is not 
a natural one ; that it is in great part artificial ; 
that they pursue the study and cultivate the love 
of art in all its manifestations because they feel that 
as Americans they cannot aff^ord to neglect what 

232 



ART 

has cast such glory over Europe and has inspired 
so many writers and singers. Art is not a vital 
principle of life in the United States ; it is an ac- 
complishment, an added grace which money can 
secure. There are schools for the teaching of art, 
and many pupils attend them. There are number- 
less exhibitions of painting and sculpture; there are 
competitions in architecture; there are students of 
landscape gardening; in a word, every effort is 
made to prove to themselves and to the world that 
Americans are as superiorly endowed artistically as 
they are in other respects, yet the whole effect is an 
effort, and thus a proof in itself of the lack of 
spontaneity of the artistic sense. 

It is strange, at first sight, that the country has 
not yet given birth to a great poet. America has 
none at present. Yet it is not for lack of subjects 
inspiring enough. The face of nature is wondrously 
fair in the United States ; scenery as grand, and 
grander than that of Europe meets the traveler at' 
every turn; scenes almost as sweet and pastoral as 
those of England are met with continually; yet no 
poet has sung the beauties of the American land- 
scape in a way to rivet the attention of his country- 
men and to arrest that of the foreigner. The history 
of the country has much that is epic in it: the War 
of Independence, the fortitude of Washington, the 
War of Secession, the figures of Lincoln, of Lee 
are such as to inspire a singer, yet they have evoked 
no responsive song. There are writers who have 
addressed themselves to the task of depicting the 
life of the people, and who have succeeded admira- 

2SS 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

bly in revealing the vast fund of interest that lies 
therein. They have brought out with strong or 
tender touch the force and the gentleness of the 
national character, and have reproduced the types 
evolved in various parts of the country. The power 
is there, one cannot help feeling. The ability exists ; 
the springs of inspiration are numerous enough 
and abundant enough, but the seekers after the beau- 
ties of poetry are few and far between. 

That, no doubt, is because these things are not 
sufficiently practical to interest the average Ameri- 
can. Fiction appeals to him as a restful form of 
reading, but in fiction he requires and demands much 
action. Description bores him, and he skips It with 
a mighty skip ; analysis of character wearies him, 
and he leaves it unread. The authors quickly learn 
what the public prefers, and as their object, in the 
main, is to gain reputation and solid reward, they 
indulge the public. There are a few who delve 
deeper and produce works so sweet, so tender, so 
true, that the memory of them lives fragrant, but 
they are the exception, not the rule. The part of the 
public they look to is a minority. The great mass 
of readers want excitement, rush, adventure, and to 
that the writers are consequently Inclined to sacri- 
fice everything else. As a result, there Is not a large 
quantity of really artistic work in fiction; it forms 
but a small portion of the tremendous output that 
goes on day by day. It exists, but It is not the 
most characteristic feature of American literature. 

Music is pursued with careful attention to the se- 
lection of all that is best in that particular field, and 



ART 

probably there is no place, Germany not excepted, 
where musical criticism flourishes more abundantly 
and is more scientific than in the larger cities of 
the United States. Two or three orchestras of more 
than ordinary excellence perform the works of the 
greatest composers, the works of the living as of the 
dead, and vast audiences rehgiously follow, intent on 
not missing one of the finer points — about which 
they have learned from the careful analysis placed 
in their hands as they entered the hall. They ap- 
plaud correctly, at times warmly. Externally they 
are all that a musical enthusiast should be: atten- 
tive, respectful, but one cannot help wondering, 
whether, after all, music is really in the American 
soul. Liberal patronage of high-priced concerts 
and most expensive grand opera is not in itself 
a proof of the existence of the musical taste, and 
somehow one misses the native music; one does not 
meet with it, one does not hear it. The people, in 
city or country, do not break out into melody, save 
an occasional Moody and Sankey hymn or a ditty 
from the latest musical comedy, which is not infre- 
quently farcical but rarely very musical. Music 
does not well up out of the American soul, although 
the American ear and the American intellect are 
intent upon it. 

Of late years some excellent statues have made 
their appearance in the public squares, but they are 
far from compensating for the multitude of terrors 
which, as in our dear London, even yet disfigure 
noble avenues and fine squares. In most cities there 
are Art Commissions, charged with the troublesome 

ass 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

task of deciding on the appropriateness — and in 
some centers, on the moraHty — of the figures or 
groups offered to the admiration of the public. 
These commissions do some good, but to their pres- 
ent duties, if art in sculpture is really to be en- 
couraged, should be added — with unlimited auto- 
cratic powers — the duty of utterly destroying the 
dreadful representations of the human form which 
pass for memorials to the honor of some unfortu- 
nate, quite helpless to avoid the perpetuation of 
his presentment. 

The worst proof of the lack of real sense of art 
in the United States is the way the streets are dis- 
figured and the scenery in the neighborhood of 
every city rendered ugly by the profuse use of huge 
billboards, although they are rather more than 
that ; they are vast expanses upon which the coarsest 
and crudest illustrations are painted in staring 
color. Nothing is more exasperating than to have 
these flaring advertisements perpetually thrust at 
one, and nothing, one would think, could be more 
likely to induce a person of taste from ever pur- 
chasing any of the articles so vaunted. They are 
everywhere, high and low; in the best quarters as 
in the poorest; in the immediate neighborhood of 
fair parks, and in the open country, where, in addi- 
tion, even houses are turned to account for the 
proclamation of some quack medicine or hair restorer 
or stove polish. 

There is no escaping from them, and while it is 
perfectly true that even in artistic Paris the adver- 
tiser has likewise seized upon every coign of vantage, 

236 



ART 

there is at least the redeeming feature that the ad- 
vertisements are artistic, while in the United States 
they are frequently the very offensiveness of crudity 
and coarseness. Considering that there are men in 
the country, and not a few, capable, thanks to the 
training they have received, of producing posters of 
merit and bills that are a pleasure to look at, it is 
the more to be regretted that the inevitable adver- 
tising boards are so thoroughly and completely 
hideous. But they pay: they pay the owner of the 
land; they pay the advertiser; they pay the bill 
poster, and once a thing pays, no other considera- 
tions can prevail. The beauty of the city may be 
marred; what matter .'' Money is being made by 
the marring. The better sense of the better bred is 
shocked. Money is being got, and money tops art 
any day and every day. 

No; the American has not the true art sense. 
Individual Americans have it, and appreciate all 
forms of beauty, but taken collectively he is wholly 
lacking in it. In respect to art, the average Ameri- 
can is hopelessly bourgeois, terribly Philistine. It 
does not appeal to him; it is merely a something 
that can be procured, like everything else, in return 
for dollars. 

But there is ever another side to a picture, and 
when America and the Americans are discussed, it 
is not one side but many that have to be taken ac- 
count of. For the country and the people present 
so many and such varied aspects and characteristics 
that what is true of one part of the land, of one 
portion of the people, may not be true of other 

237 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

parts. It is a land of contrasts and surprises, of 
differences that seem inexplicable ; very often of 
oppositions that are wholly unexpected, and this in 
matters of art, as in questions of politics or any- 
thing else. There are splendid monuments, side by 
side with thoroughly hideous ones ; there are men 
and women with the most refined, the most deli- 
cate, the most accurate perception of art in all its 
manifestations, and there is an overwhelming ma- 
jority utterly unable to grasp the most rudimentary 
notions of the ideal. By the side of those who look 
on literature, on painting, on music as merely frivol- 
ities which are expensive and wearisome but which 
must be accepted because it is the proper thing to 
accept them, there are those whose taste is critical, 
whose understanding is perfect, whose enjoyment is 
of the highest. There are collections, private and 
public, which make the wonder and the joy of the 
artist; there are evidences of genuine feeling for the 
beautiful and proofs of the existence of a true es- 
thetic spirit. 

Above all there is the determination, perfectly 
plain, that America shall not lag behind the coun- 
tries of the Old World in any one particular. Con- 
sequently, the study of art is included, in a minor 
degree, even in school programs, and in colleges 
and universities there are courses and lectures and 
demonstrations which tell of and which contain in 
themselves the promise of a development of the un- 
derstanding of art and its practice. There are so- 
cieties of painters, of sculptors, of architects, of 
musicians, and there are literary clubs like the sands 

238 



ART 

of the sea, in multitude. The school children are 
being taught by the subtle method of placing con- 
tinually before them reproductions of the master- 
pieces of all countries and all ages. There are 
books, numberless, published as introductions and 
guides to the knowledge of art in its various mani- 
festations. 

These facts lead to the conclusion that if a 
genuine national art is not evolved in the course of 
time, it will not be for the lack of persistent and 
generally intelligent teaching. It may be that the 
artistic atmosphere will form and grow in the United 
States as it has done in other lands, and that the 
artist will find himself in congenial surroundings. 
All things are possible in America, and where so 
many wonderful things have already been carried 
out, it is on the cards that the sense for art may in 
its turn be created and maintained. 

But there are many difficulties to be surmounted, 
and the progress can in no event prove very rapid. 
The continual churning-up of the social strata, the 
incessant irruption into the wealthy class of those 
who have risen from the ranks, without any of that 
tradition of the beautiful and the ideal which is the 
appanage of the highly cultured, make for delay in 
advancement. So much gold is wasted on atrocities 
and inferior productions, so little knowledge is 
shown of the qualities which constitute a master- 
piece, so little interest in art as compared with the 
keen interest felt in money-making that one cannot 
be very hopeful for the growth of the esthetic sense 
throughout all classes. 

239 



XIV 
EDUCATION 

The trite saying, knowledge is power, might also 
be rendered knowledge is liberty, for there is nothing 
which is so indispensable in a democracy as that 
instruction which enlightens the individual regard- 
ing his duties and his responsibilities. That is the 
essential point : without that knowledge he can never 
be truly free. Every man in a democracy being, 
whether he will or no, interested in and responsible 
for the government of the commonwealth, it follows 
that he should receive the training which will enable 
him to take an intelligent interest in the adminis- 
tration of the country, and to realize the greatness 
of his responsibility toward the community at large. 

There is a great deal of education in the United 
States and men are naturally proud of the results 
they obtain, but there is not enough instruction in the 
duties of citizenship, not nearly enough in the respon- 
sibilities of freedom. There are excellent systems of 
common schools, wherein the rich and the poor alike 
receive the best of teaching; colleges and technical 
institutions where the youth may fit himself for busi- 
ness or a profession; universities where he may pro- 
ceed to highest studies and to original research. 

240 



EDUCATION 

The program of the schools, the curriculum of the 
colleges, the syllabus of the universities give him 
the widest choice of subjects and permit him to 
select such lines of work as please his fancy or serve 
his more determinate purpose. It would be difficult, 
indeed, to discover any topic on which instruction 
may not be obtained, save, perchance, the most use- 
ful of all to the citizen of a democratic state: civic 
instruction. 

It exists, up to a certain point; but it is to be 
found more especially in higher institutions of learn- 
ing, and while it is true that many students attend 
these, it is likewise true that the vast majority of the 
voters never go beyond the elementary teaching to 
be had in the public schools. The voters who com- 
pose this class, being the most numerous, are those 
whose suffrage will determine the result of the elec- 
tions ; they are those who least apprehend what the 
responsibility of a citizen is; who least understand 
that a vote is not simply a marketable commodity, 
and should not be turned into one, but that it is a 
power which should be used with discrimination and 
with singleness of purpose. These men have not 
the smallest perception of the consequence of vot- 
ing beyond the fact that if the candidate for whom 
they have been ordered, by the boss, to plump, is 
returned, some ulterior material benefit will accrue 
to them personally. They take the commercial 
view of suffrage: their vote is a means of getting a 
few dollars in return for a walk to the polling booth ; 
it is a possible way of securing a desirable berth 
in the employ of the city. State or Federal adminis- 

241 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

tration; it is not exercising the right of a free man 
to determine the character of the government. 

Universal suffrage is a curse and an evil at the 
present time in the United States because it is the 
appanage of the ignorant and the venal ; because the 
patriot, the true patriot, who is ever ready to make 
sacrifices for the good of his country, and who is 
unselfish, is outvoted by the mass of sordid and 
careless individuals who care naught for the success 
of a wise policy and have no thought save for the 
personal advantage they may draw from the sale — 
it may be repeated, sale — of their vote. It is a 
curse, because, with the prevailing laxity of public 
opinion, with the lack of thorough and widespread 
civic instruction, it is not the best men who deter- 
mine the fate of measures but the nerveless, the 
weak, the ignorant, the venal, led as these are by 
the unscrupulous and the daring. Admirable in 
theory, and a logical consequence of the principle 
that all men are free and all are therefore interested 
in the administration of affairs, it fails and is vicious 
because in practice it includes among the free those 
who are enslaved by ignorance and bound by the 
fetters of selfish greed. 

At times there is an explosion of public senti- 
ment, and a really great man is elected by popular 
votes, but that is rare. The rule is that voters fol- 
low the behests of the self-appointed dictators, and 
these men do not seek the good of the country; 
they aim simply at their own personal profit. They 
control the votes of the great mass of people; they 
buy and sell them as they would any other com- 

242 



EDUCATION 

modity; they bargain with candidates; they settle 
the distribution of patronage, and the partition of 
the spoils. Great improvement has been made within 
the past few years but it is great only relatively ; 
there yet remains very much to be done before the 
democratic principle of universal suffrage can be 
said to have justified itself. 

While it is true, as has just been said, that public 
sentiment will rally round a great man, one worthy 
of all the honor that his country can confer upon 
him, this is no more than saying that voters are apt 
to cast their votes for any man who is strong, for 
such is the tendency of democracy that it almost 
invariably inclines to the very strong, even to the 
tyrannical. There is in the manifestation and proof 
of strength an extraordinary attraction which de- 
mocracy cannot resist. The Sovereign People are 
carried away by the sight of individual power, and 
readily confer upon the possessor of it the most 
extensive sway. This is a grave danger to the per- 
manency of democratic institutions, but the danger, 
recognized by a few, is unheeded by the many. A 
sound and thorough civic education would guard 
against the mass of the voters being thus swept off 
their feet, and casting their ballots without due 
reflection. 

It may be objected that this view of the responsi- 
bilities of a voter In a democratic country involves 
too heavy a demand on the intelligence and on the 
time of the citizen. No doubt that Is the case, but 
it is the natural, the logical consequence of true 
democracy, which is not a thing composed of sonor- 

24S 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ous, empty phrases such as are too often served out 
to the people, but a reality and a grave one at that. 
Democracy involves, let it be once more repeated, 
responsibilities that are not extant in despotic gov- 
ernments or in aristocratic communities. In a 
democracy all citizens are equally responsible for the 
proper conduct of public affairs ; all are equally 
bound to inform themselves seriously and fully, and 
to cast their votes not in accordance with their 
personal advantage, but for the good of the entire 
community. A man cannot decently expect to en- 
joy all the benefits of liberty and at the same time 
to escape from the duties it entails upon him. He 
is not a true democrat when he does this ; he is not 
a faithful citizen. He is bound to assume his share 
of the common burden, which he ought not to re- 
gard as a burden at all, but as what it is, a high 
privilege: the privilege of the free man. 

Along this line, therefore, it is that education 
should train men in a democratic state, and for this 
purpose education must be general, thorough, and 
include not alone those subjects which are of use 
everywhere and under all conditions, but especially 
civic education, the teaching of the duties and re- 
sponsibilities of the citizen to the community. All 
manner of things are more or less well taught to 
the children in the public schools: they are given 
small doses of this, that and the other, but the great 
number are left ignorant of the real task before 
them. They are told of the wonderful development 
of the land, of its illimitable resources ; they are 
trained to believe in its superiority over all others 

244 



EDUCATION 

in the world ; they are led to contemplate its in- 
effable greatness, but they are not taught, or not 
sufficiently taught that all these splendors involve 
corresponding duties on their part, and that the 
discharge of these duties is expected and required 
of them if the Union is to remain the great exemplar 
of applied democracy. 

The field is a rich one, and the ground is fertile, 
for in the United States one of the greatest charms 
of life is the love and desire of education. It is 
general, it is universal, one may say. Education is 
not the monopoly of the select few: it is the inheri- 
tance and the prerogative of all. Generally com- 
pulsory, the opportunity to acquire knowledge is 
freely offered to all — the schools are good taken all 
round: the teachers usually well equipped and in- 
terested in their work; the taxpayers abundantly 
willing to make the necessary sacrifices for the main- 
tenance, on a high scale of efficiency, of the estab- 
lishments of education. A wonderful generosity 
manifests itself constantly in this direction. Re- 
spect and admiration are entertained for those who 
devote themselves to teaching. In few, if any coun- 
tries, is this the case to a similar extent. 

The influence of the teaching body is extraordin- 
arily great although it is exercised quietly. Heads 
of educational institutions rank among the first 
of the land; their opinion is eagerly sought after; 
their views are closely studied ; their counsel prized ; 
their cooperation desired. Scarcely an interview, 
hardly a symposium is published in the press but 
includes one or more representatives of the edu- 

245 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

cational staff of the country. It is a high honor 
to be called to a chair in a university or to the 
presidency of a college. 

The college is the natural goal of thousands who, 
in Europe, would not dream of such a continuation 
of the elementary education they have received. 
The boy engaged in selling papers expects to enter 
the establishment which has made his city or his 
State illustrious, and there to obtain that knowl- 
edge which will enable him to rise in the world. The 
lad who has to earn his way saves all he can in 
order at some future time to gain the advantage of 
a college education. The facility with which this 
can be had is a potent factor in the general uplift- 
ing of the nation. It is largely because instruction 
is freely given that all careers are open to every 
man and woman in the land. It is because institu- 
tions of higher learning abound everywhere that 
men and women can fit themselves for better work 
and for the attainment of a place higher in the 
social scale. Democracy is a living force in this 
respect, and the spread of schools, colleges and uni- 
versities is one of the most beneficent results of the 
principle. 

This involves, on the other hand, the responsibil- 
ity of giving to the multitudes which resort to these 
institutions that civic education without which the 
citizen of the Republic is and remains imperfect, and 
incapable of properly discharging his duties to the 
community. For the smattering — it is often no 
more — of many a subject not of pressing and im- 
mediate necessity, might well be substituted in the 

246 



EDUCATION 

schools themselves, and certainly in many of the col- 
leges, a foundation, sure and firm, in the knowledge 
of the principles of democracy and of the duties 
consequent upon it. Scholars are a glorious fruit 
of universities, but the schools and the colleges 
should especially devote themselves to the making 
of men and women, of citizens aware of their privi- 
leges and prepared to perform their duties to the 
commonwealth. This plain part of the work of the 
educational institutions is yet but imperfectly ful- 
filled; it needs to be greatly extended. Most of the 
problems which men and women alike, in the peculiar 
conditions of life in the United States, have to face 
once they go out into the world, are connected with 
social, economic and political questions. They 
should therefore be trained to meet these difficulties 
and to aid in solving them for the greatest advan- 
tage to the greatest number. 

Of the several points which compel attention, in 
connection with education in the United States, 
there are two or three which must be mentioned as 
developed largely by the democratic spirit ever at 
work among the people ; that spirit which inspired 
the founders of the Union, and which directs their 
worthiest successors. 

The first is the individual generosity which has 
built up, and in more than one case, founded insti- 
tutions of learning. Reference has already been 
made to the readiness with which money is every- 
where voted for the maintenance of schools ; this 
inclination to favor a system by which everyone 
profits is doubtless meritorious, but, after all, it is 

247 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

not unexpected or surprising since the benefits de- 
rived from the schooling of boys and girls are ap- 
parent to everyone. What is particularly fine, what 
is very admirable, is the way in which the higher 
establishments are supported, encouraged and 
strengthened year by year, and without the smallest 
diminution of that just interest in them which is one 
of the most beautiful traits in the American char- 
acter. 

Benefactors are never wanting, and it is to the 
credit of the greatest institutions that their re- 
sources are largely drawn from the gratitude of 
their own scholars. It is the graduates who come 
forward with loyal fervor to supply their Alma 
Mater with the wealth needed to carry out to the 
full the noble purposes she has in view. It is the 
rich who have some relation with the university, 
through a son, a brother, if not themselves directly, 
who lavish upon learning the abundance of their 
fortune. In every college and university throughout 
the land are to be seen testimonies to this American 
spirit of aid for the learning which is to make men 
for the nation. There are State universities, deriv- 
ing their income from the appropriations made by 
the legislatures ; but there are especially institutions 
which in nowise depend upon the will of a body to 
maintain them, but which grow and expand, thanks 
to the munificence of private individuals and to the 
wise administration of their funds by their corpora- 
tions. 

In these colleges and universities, as in the schools, 
are seen seated side by side the sons of the well-to- 

M8 



EDUCATION 

do, of the rich and of the laboring classes. The 
descendant of an old family; the lad who is earning 
his way; the son of the tradesman; the boy who 
comes from an humble home, whose own parents 
never could hope for higher education, are there, 
being taught together and learning to know each 
other. That is what is most inspiring, perhaps, in 
the educational system of the country. It is true 
democracy, which takes no account of position but 
makes success depend upon personal effort and per- 
sonal merit. 

Yet another feature: the absolute freedom of the 
instructor in most of the large universities — not 
quite in all, it must be confessed. That freedom is 
practically unlimited, save by the consensus of 
opinion within the university as to the best meth- 
ods, and by the sound sense of the instructor him- 
self. 

But here enters into account a point of much in- 
terest and singular charm: the influence of the stu- 
dent body upon the teaching staff. While, in the 
largest universities, there is not, and through the 
force of circumstances there cannot be that close 
and intimate relation between the teacher and the 
taught which is one of the advantages of the tutorial 
system, there is a stimulus and a spur which the 
instructor speedily feels. There is also a communion 
of thought, a harmony of effort, a willingness on 
the part of the student to do his share of the work 
fairly ; on the part of the teacher to make the way 
as plain as possible. This is due in great measure 
to the character of the American youth, as fine a 

S49 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

product as is to be met with. He is genuinely 
likable; he is attractive, because he is sincere and 
simple; he is enjoyable because he has the capacity 
for enjoyment himself, and withal, save in some ex- 
ceptions, a desire to profit by the instruction he is 
in the place to receive. He is not always a scholar, 
a "grind," as college slang has it, but he is quite 
ready and willing to do a day's work in a day if 
properly handled. 

That is important, for the spirit of independence 
is strong in him. He is, like all his race, impatient 
of strict discipline, and is always more easily and 
successfully led than driven: which is in his favor 
and in that of the wise teacher, for the latter is well 
aware that it is far more profitable to lead than it 
is to push and press forward the unwilling. The 
American youth is critical of his instructors; he 
does not entertain for them the traditional respect 
which is assumed to exist in Europe. He judges 
them as he judges his own comrades, and he accords 
his respect and his attention or withholds them in 
accordance with the outcome of his comparisons. 
He is perfectly willing to do anything for the man 
who takes the trouble to study him and to treat him 
as a human being ; he is ready to follow, but he will 
not easily be constrained. He will rigidly enforce 
discipline if the enforcement be left to him; he will 
probably kick over the traces if the man in author- 
ity holds the reins too tight. He can be depended 
upon to the uttermost once he has passed his word 
— and to that there are very few exceptions indeed. 
He is honorable in his dealings, and amenable to 

250 



EDUCATION 

remonstrance on matters which he looks at in a dif- 
ferent light from his seniors. He enters upon 
studies, and reveals interest in questions which would 
seem far from his horizon ; he delves willingly into 
the matters brought before him, and enters into 
discussions and debates with heartiness and enthusi- 
asm. He "wants to know," once he has been taken 
with a study; and it is for his instructor to supply 
the want. He takes naturally to administration; 
he establishes societies of many sorts and manages 
them; he enters upon business and succeeds in it 
even while in college; he can "run" things and he 
likes to do it; in short, in college, in the university, 
he trains himself for the busy life of the world to 
which he is looking forward. 

Best of all, he is a youth, not an old head on 
young shoulders, but a real youth with all the charm 
of his age and with all the essential traits of it. He 
loves sport ; he grows wildly enthusiastic over foot- 
ball, almost as much over baseball, mildly so over 
rowing and tennis. He gets into scrapes and he gets 
out of them; he is delightfully forgetful, at times, 
and still more delightfully winning in seeking to ex- 
cuse himself. He has the secret of attracting old 
and young, and while the praises of the American 
girl are sung in lyric mode until it becomes difficult 
to find the original of the rhapsodies, the American 
youth, unsung and little drawn by illustrators, re- 
tains the freshness and vigor of his character, and 
the full charm of his age. 

No one else can claim to know the American 
who knows not, somewhat intimately the American 

251 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

youth, with all his cordiality, his ease, his frank- 
ness, his thoroughness in all he does. He can be 
tremendously conceited, and at the same time abso- 
lutely modest; he believes in himself, in his country, 
yet he is ready to take advice and to seek it. He is 
prudent in many of his enterprises and amusingly 
rash in other matters. He has comradeship strong- 
ly developed, yet he can pull his own car and make 
his own way. He is entirely pleasant to meet, and 
he leaves memories that are dear to the man who 
has long been with him. He is the hope of his coun- 
try, and that hope will not prove illusory. The 
young generations, as they succeed each other, are 
contributing something more to the common stock, 
and in them is to be aroused that high sense of 
duty to the Republic which is the surest warrant of 
the continuance and magnificent development of 
democracy along the lines of progress and usefulness 
to humanity. 

To education the success of the United States is 
very largely due, and in directing education, the 
country, guided by men of great wisdom, has avoided 
many of the difficulties and complications which em- 
barrass the older European countries. The fortunes 
of the Birrell Education bill in England were 
watched with curiosity by many in the United 
States who could not understand what all the pother 
was about, and to whom the contentions of Church- 
men and Nonconformists were worse than Greek and 
Hebrew. That was because in America all the com- 
plications with which the Liberal Government so un- 
successfully attempted to deal are practically un- 

252 



EDUCATION 

known. Education is not confided to the care of 
rival churches and sects, ever quarreling and fight- 
ing, but is the duty of the State itself, which owes 
to its citizens elementary instruction at least, and in 
many cases gives them yet more advanced teaching. 
Consequently, with the universal desire for instruc- 
tion characteristic of the American, and the absence 
of polemics on the question of religious teaching, 
the problem which still baffles British statesmen does 
not present itself here. Children are all taught what 
the State should teach them ; the question of religious 
instruction is left to be dealt with, as it ought to be, 
by the churches themselves. 

The United States is not, officially, a Christian 
State, and the various States composing the Union, 
while many of them are officially Christian, have 
adopted the plan of separating entirely secular and 
religious education. And on the whole, the results 
are satisfactory. The churches themselves are 
stirred up to greater activity, and the work that 
else would be but imperfectly performed is carried 
out with thoroughness. Pupils of all creeds sit side 
by side in the schools, as do pupils of every social 
class and of every color, for, except in the South- 
ern States, the negro and mulatto are no more 
segregated than are the children of the poor. In 
practice, some schools are attended more largely 
by the children of the well-to-do than by those 
of the working classes, usually so-called, but this 
is due not to any discrimination between them, which 
would not be admissible, but simply to conditions of 
residence — the various quarters of the cities being 

S53 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

more particularly sought by one class rather than 
by another. 

The mingling of pupils has a distinctly beneficial 
effect upon the fundamental notions they carry away 
with them after their school years are over; they 
have imbibed, at an age when impressions are easily 
and lastingly made, the idea of the practical equal- 
ity of all men in the country. They have become 
accustomed to intercourse with those not so rich as 
themselves, it may be, and moving in a different so- 
cial circle ; they have found out that it is not so- 
cial position which wins distinction in school, but 
talent and effort, and these lessons are of the utmost 
value in life. 

For no man, in the United States, can know what 
the morrow will bring forth. The individual whom 
he has possibly disdained and looked down upon, 
may turn out his superior in the race for supremacy 
in life. The fact that opportunity is given to one 
and all and that there is no class distinction as such, 
prevents the ordinary man from supposing himself 
safe from competition ; on the contrary, he is well 
aware that he will have to meet it. And his train- 
ing in school teaches him that it is on himself he 
must rely and not on any adventitious circumstances 
of birth or wealth. 

Americans contract readily the habit of reading, 
thanks to the schools, and are, in the main, apt to 
keep it up. The young, particularly, develop it to a 
quite remarkable extent. The reading rooms of the 
public libraries always contain large numbers of 
youthful readers, and circulating libraries also draw 

254 



EDUCATION 

many of them. Fiction is not the only branch of 
literature they patronize ; naturally enough it is the 
chief one, but they add to works of the imagination 
others of a more serious character. 

The results of this fondness for instruction, of 
the spread of education among all classes, are strik- 
ingly evident, and a walk through the streets of any 
American city, a conversation with the ordinary 
workman returning to his home at the end of the 
day, a chat with the farmer or his boy, suffice to 
reveal how vast is the influence and how uplifting. 
There is something in the air and bearing of the 
average workingman which marks at once his pos- 
session of a certain amount of intellectual training. 
He is as a rule bright and quick ; that is because his 
mental discipline has been looked after in childhood 
and youth. 

It is worth watching a regiment of State militia, 
or a regiment bound to war, for the purpose of 
noting the peculiarly intelligent aspect of the men 
in the ranks. There is certainly lacking that smart- 
ness which is considered in Europe a sine qua non, 
but in its place there is seen easily enough a greater 
intelligence, a greater keenness, a greater individual- 
ity; all things which, no doubt, do not conduce to 
make a soldier after the pattern dear to the heart 
of Frederick the Great, but which produce a fighter 
capable of taking care not only of himself but of 
others as well, should need arise. 

And education has entered into the whole life of 
the people, entered into it in a way that is not readily 
understood, because not easily perceived, by the 

255 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

transient visitor. It is not only the large diffusion 
of libraries through the land, although that in itself 
is an index of the interest taken in study; it is not 
only the maintenance of schools in every district; it 
is the earnest and general desire manifest among a 
class which, in older lands, is content perforce to re- 
main uninstructed, to obtain education and to turn 
it to account as a means of mental and temporal 
improvement. Few things are so admirable, in a 
land where admirable things greet one at every turn, 
as the persistent effort made, often under most dis- 
advantageous and distressing circumstances, to se- 
cure that instruction which will give the oppor- 
tunity of rising. 

Men and women alike share that yearning, and 
seek to satisfy it even at the cost of self-denial and 
sacrifice. Anyone who has had the chance to observe 
the youth of America will bear witness to that trait 
of the national character. The Americans, in this 
respect, resemble that sturdy Scottish race that so 
early developed a system of instruction which re- 
sulted in fitting its sons to fight their way in every 
part of the world, and to attain success where other 
races would fail. The Scottish shepherd laddie, who 
read his Homer and his Virgil while tending his 
flocks, has his counterpart many times repeated in 
the United States, and the origin of many a man 
who has gained fame, not at home only but abroad, 
is as humble, in the conventional sense of the word, 
as that of many an eminent Scotsman who, thanks 
to the spirit of his nation, the traditions of his coun- 
try and the opportunities it affords for education, 

256 



EDUCATION 

has passed into a higher realm and benefited human- 

The great number of colleges and universities is 
additional proof of the democratizing of education. 
Everyone, practically, has the chance to obtain 
higher training, after the work of the primary, sec- 
ondary, and high schools. The poorest lad, if of 
parts, can obtain in some one of the numerous estab- 
lishments that first help to the studious which is 
of such incalculable value at the time it is given. 
And this is due to the beneficence, the public spirit 
of private individuals ; it is not the State which thus 
smooths the way ; it is an American, man or woman, 
feeling the prevailing admiration for instruction, 
who has given or left money for that special purpose. 
The colleges and universities of the United States 
are not primarily for the rich man's son, with a pos- 
sible opportunity for a sizar, but they are for all 
the youth of the land regardless of the monetary 
condition of the parents. In them the able youth 
can maintain himself and win his honors and make a 
name for himself. In them he is started by the aid 
intended for him and his like, an aid which he not 
infrequently repays in after life. He takes up oc- 
cupations of profit with the knowledge that his pur- 
suit of them will in no respect militate against his 
standing; labor, honest labor is honored, as it should 
ever be. The fact that a student is poor will not 
for an instant prevent his forming useful and agree- 
able friendships ; will not debar him from participa- 
tion in the best life of the institution; will not pre- 
possess a single instructor against him, but on the 

257 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

contrary, will enlist in his behalf the cordial sym- 
pathy of those who witness, approve and encourage 
his efforts to make a man, an independent man of 
himself. 

It is in the colleges and the universities that the 
spirit of "get there" is seen at its best and produces 
the most satisfactory results. The competition is 
keen there as in the greater world outside, but the 
struggle wholly benefits the contestants. If the vic- 
tories of Great Britain have been won on the playing 
fields of Eton and Harrow, the triumphs of the 
United States have been largely won in the district 
schools, in the colleges and in the universities, cen- 
ters of a life whose intensity and strenuousness are 
typical of the vigor of the national life; where the 
lad from the farm can gain that insight into the 
problems of life and that mastery of the knowledge 
he craves which, later, will make him the man of 
mark and leading in his community. 

Deeply interesting, singularly attractive is the 
American youth, whether he belong to the rich class 
which has given him all the comforts and charms of 
life from childhood, or whether he be sprung from 
that sturdy and reliable farmer stock which is spread 
over the whole territory of the great Union. He is 
well worth studying, for in him lie the possibilities 
of the future, and the observer who applies himself 
to the task and follows the careers of these youths 
in after Hfe, learns soon that democracy, among 
the other great benefits it has conferred upon the 
land and its people, has conferred none greater 
than the love of education and the respect for it 

358 



EDUCATION 

which forms an essential trait of the American 
character. 

And how splendid are the opportunities presented 
to the American youth in college and university! 
In the larger institutions especially, he has the 
chance to see and hear all the men of high reputa- 
tion who, from his own land or from foreign shores, 
visit the establishment of which he forms a part. 
It is not one view of life which he acquires during 
his residence ; it is many different experiences which 
he hears told ; his mind is broadened by contact with 
innumerable other minds ; his intellect sharpened by 
contact with hundreds of other intellects. He im- 
bibes knowledge unwittingly and wittingly; he ac- 
quires instruction consciously and unconsciously ; he 
is every day gaining something and every day, even 
if inclined to laziness all round, which is not a fre- 
quent phenomenon, he learns something new and use- 
ful. That on the whole he profits by all this, is not 
to be wondered at: the strange thing would be that 
he should be less able, less quick, less intelligent and 
less attractive than he is. 

As material for the formation of a manly char- 
acter he is to be envied. Responsive and adaptable, 
he readily follows a leader who inspires him, and a 
teacher in the United States, no matter what the 
grade of institution to which he belongs, must be a 
leader, not a driver, in the ordinary sense of the 
word. It has already been remarked that the Amer- 
ican in this respect is restive to driving, but respon- 
sive to enthusiasm, to inspiration, to leadership. 
With these qualities, anything can be made of the 

259 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

American youth ; it is for those in charge of his 
mental and moral development to see to it that the 
results are obtained. And it is because he is so sus- 
ceptible to the right kind of influence, and because 
he can be interested, that the hope of the democracy 
of the future is so bright. All that is needed is to 
train the youth of the land to a full sense of their 
duties and responsibilities as citizens ; to inform them 
thoroughly and accurately of the history of their 
race and their ancestry, their political ancestry, 
and the consequences will work themselves out fav- 
orably for the nation. 

Civic education, in large and generous measure, 
education directed not to vain boastfulness of past 
glories, but to the understanding and apprehension 
of the problems of democracy and especially of the 
problems which confront his own country, education 
which shall develop and root in him unalterably the 
sense of personal honor, of public honor, of public 
spirit, of true patriotism — which is neither brag nor 
jingoism— that education given to the youth of 
America will assure that brilliant future so often 
predicted but which will never be realized unless 
measures are taken to insure that the men shall be 
ready when the need arises for them — and the need 
is ever present and ever will be. 



XV 

THE PRESS 

The writer of impressions and the dweller in the 
land are apt to be of one mind on the question of 
the press, and that mind is not favorable to an in- 
fluential part of the press. The papers which have 
the largest circulation, all over the country, are 
those which compose what is popularly known as 
*'the yellow press," a fit appellation. It is enough to 
say of these that they seek not so much to give the 
news of the country and of the foreign lands v/ith 
which the United States are in constant communica- 
tion, as to superexcite the love of gossip and scan- 
dal, ingrained in so many people, and which has been 
largely developed and intensified by these journals. 
The appetite grows by what it feeds upon, and while 
every society contains a large proportion of persons 
whose curiosity is more particularly directed to- 
ward the affairs of their neighbors and toward sa- 
lacious incidents, it is unhappily a fact that no- 
where is that regrettable feature more prevalent 
than in America. 

The yellow press lives on sensation-mongering; it 
employs any and every means of stimulating the de- 
sire of its innumerable readers for further scandals 

261 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and greater excitement. It panders to every evil 
tendency of human nature ; it promotes hatred, 
malice and all uncharitableness, and the one object 
which it holds superior to this, is the making of 
money. For the yellow press and its various pro- 
prietors do not enter upon their business of corrupt- 
ing and debasing the minds of the readers from a 
simple delight in filth and nastiness and falsehood ; it 
may even be maintained that did they believe cleanli- 
ness, the uplifting of men's minds, and the proclama- 
tion of eternal verities a paying fasliion of editing 
newspapers, they would, without a moment's hesita- 
tion, enter upon a career of virtuous journalism. 
But tliey want to make money ; gold is their god, and 
the only god they worship. They believe — and ex- 
perience supports their belief — that more money is 
to be made by serving the baser sides of man than b}'^ 
helping man to become better. They are on the 
same moral — or, properly, immoral — plane as the 
keepers of gambling* hells, of dives, of houses of ill- 
fame, of low grogshops, of bucket shops, and the 
other numerous businesses which trade upon the 
folly and the criminal tendencies of men. They ex- 
ploit vice, and exploit it joyously, enthusiastically, 
energetically. They seek to spur the greed for all 
that is vile and mean and disgusting. They resort 
to bare lying, when they cannot otherwise attract 
attention. They must continually produce effects 
startling and unexpected; they cannot be content 
for a single moment to let the world go on tranquilly. 
Distortion, misrepresentation, falsification they 
thrive on and cultivate with ardor. Their "scare 

262 



THE PRESS 

heads" are models of untruth ; their statements may 
confidently be assumed to be false by the more ra- 
tional and reflective of the conmiunity, but that 
matters not one whit to them: they are well aware 
that the great majority of their readers do not seek 
or desire truth, but sensation ; not fact but inven- 
tion ; not news, but scandal, the spicier and the fouler 
the better. 

This may seem a harsh judgment to pass on the 
newspaper-reading public which eagerly purchases 
and peruses these sheets ; on the men of business 
who hurry over their columns, on the women who 
study them, on the girls and boys of still tender 
years who impregnate their minds with all the un- 
savoriness and all the abominations which are coarse- 
ly and crudely told in these debased productions of 
the pubKsher's art, on the workmen who, after a 
day's toil, delect themselves in the enjoyment of 
attacks on all that is best in the world, and in in- 
finite details of all that is worst. But as a man — 
and a woman also — is known by the company he 
keeps, so is the newspaper reader to be judged by 
the kind of journal which he buys regularly and 
which he reads from beginning to end. Of the forces 
at work to impair the national character, to destroy 
the ideals which are after all the ideals of the Amer- 
ican nation, few, if any, are to be compared in 
deadly and disintegrating effect with the action of 
the yellow press. It is a blot and a stain upon Amer- 
ican civilization ; a school of crime and evil ever 
open and ever active ; a propaganda of sin and cor- 
ruption and falsehood which all the efforts of the 

263 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

churches and of the educational institutions appear 
unable to check, much less to stop. 

The yellow press, in the modern American society, 
is the pirate of old days, exercising his craft and 
following his evil tendencies. It is found every- 
where; not a railway carriage, not a trolley car, not 
a waiting-room, not a news-stand, not a hotel, not 
a theater or other place of amusement, but it is 
present in. Its issues are seen in every hand: the 
hands of old men, of old women, of young men, of 
maidens, of schoolboys and schoolgirls. The lads 
who rush about with their raucous cries and their 
bundles of infamy, are the apt pupils of the school. 
They learn that men and women are ever ready to 
peruse filth and falsehood; that between the clean 
sheet and the foul — and thank God, there are clean 
sheets, and many of them — the average reader will 
take the foul one, and they also being infected with 
the all-pervading spirit of greed of gold, in however 
small quantities, will naturally turn to the readiest 
means of earning the coveted dollars. 

The pupil in school, the student in college quickly 
realizes that it needs not literary style to secure 
acceptance of manuscript by the editors of these 
disreputable sheets : all that is needed is the art of 
dressing up an incident, of ferreting out a scandal, 
of creating one out of whole cloth, of defaming the 
pure, of lauding the vile, to obtain immediate recog- 
nition as "a bright, newsy writer." And the pupil 
in school, the student in college, if not strong 
enough in character or sufficiently under the influ- 
ence of higher views of life, takes to writing for the 

264 



THE PRESS 

yellow press as a duck takes to water, and thus adds 
one more to the forces of corruption and evil. 

By way of adding to its attractiveness, the yel- 
low press resorts to the extensive use of illustrations. 
The improvement in processes of photographic and 
half-tone reproductions has been utilized to the ut- 
most, again especially with the view of stimulating 
curiosity for all that had best be kept in the shadow. 
The glaring limelight of the printed column is not 
sufficient, and the aid of the "artist" — Heaven save 
the mark ! — is called in to supply any possible omis- 
sions on the part of the wholly unscrupulous writer 
of "news." It is easy to imagine the character of 
the illustrations thus showered upon readers : the 
heroes are criminals, the heroines abandoned women. 
Now and then amid the collection which is in itself 
an imposing Rogues' Gallery, appears the presenta- 
tion of some public man, horrified to find himself 
in such company ; of some unhappy lady, of gentle 
birth and breeding, who, because she has taken part 
in a function of a wholly private nature, discovers 
to her shame that she also is gibbeted with the band 
of adventurers of both sexes, with the prize-fighter, 
with the false coiner, with the forger, with the mur- 
derer, with the demi-mondaine. 

And there is not only no redress for this pollu- 
tion ; there is no protection against it. The "enter- 
prising reporter," as often as not a woman as a 
man, coolly tells the victim that if he or she will not 
give the picture for reproduction, it will be obtained 
without consent. At need, if the portrait is not to 
be had, another is substituted and the name altered. 

265 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

In this simple fashion the yellow journal maintains 
with its readers its assertion of being "live" and al- 
ways able to gratify the public lust for scandal and 
immorality. Instances of this method are so numer- 
ous that every reader of the papers can recall them. 
As for the victims, who cares what they think? Is 
not the land the very paradise of liberty? And does 
not liberty consist in destroying all privacy and 
tearing away all modesty and all protection from 
those who are so belated in their notions as to sup- 
pose that the individual had any rights as against 
the yellow press? 

Above the yellow press is to be found a large num- 
ber of papers which are emerging from the slough, 
and exhibiting a proper sense of the function of the 
newspaper. They are not wholly free, unhappily, 
from the characteristics which, highly developed, 
mark the lower and fouler class of sheets. They are 
still too apt to grant large space to the tittle-tattle 
and scandal of which the American public is said, 
by these very papers, to be so enamored. This, at 
least, is the conclusion legitimately drawn from the 
oft repeated declaratiori of the newspapers — and of 
the theaters — that they give the public what the pub- 
lic calls for. The justice of this statement is more 
than open to doubt. The public reads the papers 
because the habit of reading them has been formed, 
but it would read decent papers and does read them. 
If the proprietors of the press were to raise their 
standards the public would follow them. The remedy 
lies with the press itself. The reform must come 
from within. There will always be a public for 

^66 



THE PRESS 

sheets that pander to evil curiosity and to vicious 
tendencies, but it is the height of calumny to pro- 
fess, as so many newspapers do, that it is the public 
which is responsible for the low standard of much 
of the periodical literature published in the United 
States. There is too much sterling worth in the 
people of the land, too much real perception of the 
difference between good and evil, too sound a moral 
standard to render it possible to accept the verdict 
of the press on this point. No doubt the public does 
not manifest vigorously enough Its objection to the 
kind of pabulum served out to It; no doubt It pur- 
chases too eagerly and too readily the Issues of the 
yellow press and of the papers in the higher stratum, 
but that Is a habit which can be changed and which 
should be changed. Nay, which will be changed as 
time goes on, for it is Impossible not to notice the 
steady upward trend of public opinion, a trend which 
is one of the most gratlfjang, one of the most en- 
couraging signs of a healthy condition of the public 
mind. 

The papers In the class now under consideration 
are, equally with the yellow journals, continually 
and blatantly proclaiming their superiority as news 
gatherers and affirming their superiority In this 
respect to the papers of the Old World. This is one 
of the amusing — and frequent — instances of the 
deep-rooted habit of self-glorification, which prevails 
in America to an extent undreamed of In Europe. 
As a matter of fact, the class of papers referred to 
is not so much a gatherer of news as a recorder of 
tittle-tattle and parish pump happenings. Taking 

267 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

an issue of one of them at haphazard — and of 
one of the i?^ery best in this respect, of a journal 
whose editorial page is well worth reading for the 
soundness and general fairness of the views it ex- 
pounds — what does the reader, the impartial reader 
find? Exactly one column and a half of foreign 
news, of which a fair portion is of the nature of 
what the French call faits divers. The pranks of 
a goat, escaped from its pen, three accounts of mur- 
der and sudden death, an obituary notice of an un- 
known woman, a canoeing accident, a hope for finer 
weather, a brief reference to an important occur- 
rence in the South, and a story of a fire, constitute 
the first page. There are illustrations, of which 
the most prominent are that of a woman who figures 
in a scandal; another that of a boy who has caught 
a trout ; another a series of portraits of young 
women students who have published a college paper, 
the crude contents of which are poured out upon the 
public; a baseball player, of course; and a pastor, 
utterly unknown outside of the small church which 
he is leaving "to better himself." There are, it is 
true, full accounts of the stock market, and this part 
of the journal is edited with care and has value, as 
also the excellent editorial page. But accounts of 
accidents and crimes form the main part of the 
reading matter, and inevitably suggest the Police 
Gazette style of thing. 

This curious conglomeration of what is worth 
while and what is so utterly ephemeral as not, in good 
sooth, to be worth wasting printer's ink upon, is 
the result of two causes : the first, divided author- 

268 



THE PRESS 

ity; the second, pure and unadulterated commer- 
cialism. 

There does not appear to exist, in papers of the 
class to which the one quoted from belongs, any 
superior, central authority. The editor-in-chief 
takes charge of the editorial page, and he does his 
work thoroughly and satisfactorily. But he has no 
apparent control over the other parts of the journal. 
The city editor is supreme over the greater portion 
of the twelve or fourteen pages which make up the 
issue. He does not trouble, it would seem, to ob- 
serve the nature or tendency of the editorials, and 
consequently it is not infrequently the case that 
opinions highly contradictory one to the other ap- 
pear on different pages ; on the first in the form of 
scare heads, less lurid, however, by far than those 
of the yellow journals, and on the editorial page 
in the course of a well-thought-out and well-written 
leader. It is for the reader to reconcile, if reconcile 
he can, these discrepancies, but he is so used to them 
that he scarcely notices them. Commercialism is the 
second and more important cause, commercialism 
being, of course, merely another way of saying the 
love of money. The important point to be contin- 
ually borne in mind by everyone in responsible po- 
sitions on the staff, is that the paper must be made 
to pay. Therefore every means of bringing in addi- 
tional subscribers, additional purchasers, even if 
only occasional, is resorted to. Every "hayseed" 
celebrating his silver wedding is sure to find his 
portrait and that of his helpmate presented to the 
weary eyes of the indifferent reader, who cares not a 

269 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

jot whether Hiram Grasshopper, of PumpkinviUe, 
has or has not enjoyed marital feHcity for twenty- 
five years or twenty-five seconds. But Hiram and 
his tribe will buy the issue containing the portrait. 
Students in some small institutions of learning and 
"fudge" are eager to see themselves reproduced in 
the gallery perpetually kept open by the press, and 
their desires are readily gratified, to the ecstasy of 
the said students and the gratification of their par- 
ents, who forthwith acquire numberless copies of the 
paper to send to their relatives and friends by way 
of showing how famous their progeny has become. 

The society reporter — an impossible female, as a 
rule — has no other reason for existence but this 
whetting of the public's desire to see itself celebrated 
in print as belonging to the fashionable society of 
Tompkins' Crossing or Snooks' Corner. And the 
reporter, be he man or woman, never fails to describe 
every woman as a "society belle" and the society she 
pertains to as "the most exclusive set." All of 
which the so-called beauty swallows whole, and pays 
out her money to distribute among her friends. 

But this is not newsgathering, nor is the paper 
which indulges in this class of padding a real news- 
paper in this respect. It is, however, a common 
class and one that has many admirers and votaries, 
for, after all, what do these worthy citizens of a 
great country care for the events of importance in 
their own land or abroad? The important things, 
the mighty events are the local bazaar, the local 
"tea-fight," the church sociable, the school com- 
mencement, the broken engagement between Silas 

270 



THE PRESS 

(the youth who delivers milk, but is represented as 
"a scion of one of our oldest families") and Mary 
Jane (whose mother takes in washing, but who is 
spoken of as one of "the leaders of fashion"). It is 
these things which, duly chronicled in the columns 
of the daily paper, make that paper successful in 
that particular community, and consequently it is 
these things to which the soundly business and prac- 
tical management gives the most space. 

The United States has become a world-power. 
This fact is insisted on most earnestly by the press 
of all shades of opinion and of all sorts of character. 
No one seeks to deny it, for it is patent. Only, one 
wonders how it is that the bulk of the press of a 
world-power takes so little cognizance, compara- 
tively, of world affairs? Of the countries with 
which the United States is in closest touch, little is 
said in the press. A few brief telegraphic dispatches 
serve to tell all that the public cares to know, ap- 
parently, of what goes on in Great Britain, in 
France, in Germany. If a revolution breaks out in 
some South American state it does attract mention, 
but it is soon relegated to "Brief Paragraphs." 
Important debates in parliaments of Europe are 
alluded to, but never is the debate itself reported at 
all fully. Foreign affairs have acquired a certain 
value of late years, yet one would hardly gather the 
fact from the perusal of the ordinary American 
newspaper, which claims, at the same time, to excel 
in its own line as a purveyor of world news. The 
balance is unequal, the selection odd. 

There remains to be spoken of a third class of 
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AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

newspapers, the honor of the business. These are 
the journals whose reputation is so well established, 
whose management is so superior, that they can af- 
ford to disregard the claptrap of the yellow press 
and the parish pump news of the better sort above 
the yellows — best of all, who can afford to dispense 
with the picture gallery, and to give news in the 
place of sensation, information in the place of mis- 
representation. These papers, and they are to be 
found in every principal city of the United States, 
are as good as any published anywhere else; they 
are admirably edited; well printed; full of useful 
and interesting matter ; and have a decided influence 
on men's minds, for it is natural that those who read 
them habitually should learn from them how to 
think on public questions and how to treat • the 
affairs of the State or the municipality. Scare 
heads and spicy "space" reports are unknown in 
them; gossip is practically banished from them; 
crime and vulgarity do not obtain admission to the 
front page, but are either excluded or relegated to 
some remote and lonely corner, where they will not 
infect and disgust the decent reader. These papers 
are true representatives of the energy and push 
of the American journalist; far more so than 
those sheets which are ever on the watch for what 
is technically known as a "scoop," and is usually 
a fabrication, or, at the least, a wild exaggeration. 
Their leaders are sound and sensible; their re- 
ports are accurate; their news full and substantial. 
They are the pick of the lot, and they are those 
which have the smallest circulation, but an influ- 

272 



THE PRESS 

ence for good which it is difficult to overestimate. 

There is a form of the newspaper which cannot be 
overlooked : the Sunday issue. This is confined to 
the yellow press and the second class, the journals 
of the highest rank not permitting themselves in- 
dulgence in the publication of what is practically a 
weekly magazine, made up of the most varied ele- 
ments. 

The Sunday paper is now an institution, and in 
certain respects a regrettable one, but which has 
its raison d^etre. The day of rest is one on which, in 
the winter more particularly, the average American 
does not quite know what to do with himself. In the 
summer season there are the resorts open for amuse- 
ments ; there is the country, rendered so accessible 
by the numerous lines of electric cars ; there is the 
easily enjoyed pleasure of idling on a bench in one 
of the beautiful parks to be found in every city 
worthy of the name. But in winter the meteorologi- 
cal conditions are unfavorable for outdoor enjoy- 
ment, save walking — and walking is not a favorite 
pastime of the American. The house holds out su- 
perior attractions : not the fireside, for in towns and 
cities, except, perhaps, in the South, the fireside is 
almost non-existent, the radiator or the register 
having taken its place. It is pleasanter to remain 
indoors, moreover, than to go out when the ther- 
mometer indicates below zero or when a wild snow- 
storm paralyzes traffic. It is then that the Sunday 
paper has its innings. It is the solace and comfort 
of the multitude, and it is for that multitude, for 
that democratic population, that it is published. It 

273 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

is not intended for the intelligent man, for the re- 
fined woman, for the student, for the poet; it is 
frankly meant for the masses, and the masses show 
their appreciation of the fact by purchasing it 
greedily and reading it through and through, litter- 
ing the streets, the cars, the hotel public rooms with 
its scattered sheets. 

The Sunday paper is a hodge-podge of scraps of 
so-called "news." It has a little on foreign affairs, 
usually in the shape of a letter retailing the "fash- 
ionable" gossip of London and Paris, less of the 
latter than the former. It has a little about the 
doings at Washington ; talk about the next Presi- 
dential nomination ; chatter about social matters in 
the capital; and it has columns of parish pump 
babble ; columns of reports of games, football, base- 
ball, bowling, track athletics — according to the sea- 
son of the year; pages about "society" and its per- 
formances, the more extraordinary the better; about 
actors and especially about actresses, whose counter- 
feit presentments embellish the vast expanse of the 
printed page ; elaborate information on the latest 
modes, for the benefit of all the Irish "help" eager 
to emulate the "style" of their richer sisters ; fiction, 
of the most sensational variety: in a word, a com- 
mingling of all that can in any way interest the 
many readers, with multifarious tastes, who become 
purchasers of the bulky issue. Comic pages, in 
which the comic is almost invariably gross and vul- 
gar ; collections of stories revamped and sent forth 
anew, albeit tired and worn by their centuries of 
wanderings through many lands; jokes hoary with 

274 



THE PRESS 

age, but offered as choice specimens of that Amer- 
ican humor which is declared to be so superior to 
that of all other nations ancient and modern; ar- 
ticles on subjects of real interest, side by side with 
futilities that are so inconceivably stupid as to 
astound the intelligent observer. 

Yet the Sunday paper has its good points, and in 
its incomplete way serves a useful purpose. It 
creates and develops the liking for reading, and cer- 
tainly awakens in many minds a desire for fuller and 
more accurate information on many of the questions 
it touches upon. It contains very often articles of 
real worth, which impart information well worth 
spreading, and which reach countless thousands who 
else would never learn much that is of use to them. 
It discusses political themes occasionally with vigor 
and clearness, and in so far aids in the training of 
the masses, which, thanks to universal suffrage, one 
of the banes of good government in the United 
States as elsewhere where education is not general 
and thorough, hold more than the balance of power. 
It enables very many who have had no opportunity 
to follow up their elementary education, to obtain 
at least a view of topics far beyond the range of 
their daily lives, which are, to some extent, broad- 
ened and helped thereby. 

It may be said that the Sunday paper, like many 
another manifestation of American enterprise, is 
yet but at the outset of its usefulness. It has come 
to stay, and while Its presence is lamented by many, 
while the character of its contents is often unfortu- 
nate, it does not follow that substantial improve- 

275 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ment will not follow in the wake of the general up- 
lifting of public opinion and public standards 
throughout the country. At present it is a miti- 
gated nuisance; in the future it may well prove a 
valuable addition to the forces that make for good. 
It must not be forgotten that the great bulk of the 
population is not church-going. There are churches 
galore in every city and town, but their number is 
absurdly out of proportion to the numbers of the 
population. And numerous as they are they are not 
always filled. The teachings of the pulpit would 
fail to reach as large a part of the public as they 
now reach were it not for the press, which in its 
week-day issues reports the most notable addresses 
— or those the authors of which have been careful 
to send them to a reporter — and in its Suniilay issue 
prints very frequently an address or sermon written 
especially for the non-church-goer. 

When the sense of proportion is better developed, 
when the managers of these bulky sheets better un- 
derstand the relative value of the matter they print, 
when they more clearly perceive the immense influ- 
ence for good of which they may be the instruments, 
they will modify their publications and their papers 
will be a valuable force in the community. They 
can be made to become so. 



XVI 
FOREIGN RELATIONS 

In few matters has there been such a marked 
change in the United States as in the relations with 
foreign powers, and especially with Great Britain. 
The change is very significant of the altered influ- 
ences at work within the nation, influences which 
have much to do with the point of view taken by 
the press and the people at large. Not many years 
ago the self-respecting "man in the street" consid- 
ered himself bound to declaim against Britain and 
everything British. That unfortunate country was 
even more "perfidious Albion" to him than it ever 
was to the great Napoleon^ He saw her hand in 
nearly every disaster, domestic or foreign ; he sus- 
pected her interference in every election that ran 
counter to his wishes ; he wished her harm, intensest 
harm, with a whole heart; he rejoiced over her mis- 
fortunes, crowed over her mistakes, and thanked 
God that he was not an Englisliman. Here again 
there were exceptions, as there are to everything, 
but these exceptions were few and far between, and 
did not manifest themselves in the councils of the 
nation. 

Toward France the feeling was more humane, if 
277 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

not much more cordial. At least France had once 
again, and resolutely, cast off the errors of Empire 
and Monarchy, and had entered upon a career of 
greatness as an imitator of the United States. It 
could not quite be expected to approach the latter 
in glory and honor, but at all events it was making 
a praiseworthy effort to emulate the finest country 
in the world, and to be republican and democratic. 

Russia had a place privileged. Tradition had it, 
and has it still, — for the wily diplomatists of the 
autocratic reahn have taken care to perpetuate it — 
that Russia had shown herself the friend of the 
United States at the time of the Civil War. It had 
done nothing of the sort in particular, but tradition 
and legend constitute, as has been wittily said, the 
true history believed in by the masses. That there 
was any incongruity in a democratic country dis- 
playing warm affection toward the worst autocracy 
in the civilized world, did not appear to dawn upon 
the Americans. It did not prevent, later, the 
French Republic from making close alliance with the 
same land. 

Germany was looked down upon with amusing in- 
difference, tinged with contempt, for it was some- 
what absurd in that piecemeal empire, held together 
by a Prussian sovereign, to put forth ambitions as a 
world-power. That it had a splendid army was un- 
deniable; that the army had proved its spirit and 
excellence in a great war, was admitted, but then the 
war had been with another European country, and 
one manifestly enfeebled by a prolonged dose of 
Imperialism. This weakened any conclusions that 

278 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

might hastily be drawn from the completeness of the 
success won by the German arms. 

Other countries did not greatly preoccupy the 
man in the street. They existed doubtless, but 
mainly for the purpose of supplying the land of the 
free with fruit-peddlers and cheap labor — the great 
attack on that pernicious institution not having 
then been developed in its full beauty. Turkey, 
Italy, were of no particular account; Austria-Hun- 
gary was not much thought of. The Northern 
realms of Sweden, Norway and Denmark were prob- 
ably all right, and caused no disturbance to the 
peace of the world. Spain, after a time, came more 
to the front. It held Cuba and Porto Rico, the 
former a most desirable possession most lamentably 
misgoverned. It lay so conveniently close to the 
shores of the United States that the idea that Provi- 
dence — the Providence represented by the fish-eagle 
whose wings are deployed above the escutcheon of 
Stars and Stripes — had manifestly intended it for 
American occupation early took root in the popu- 
lar mind, and the man in the street grew hot as he 
talked of the foulness of Spanish corruption. 

When the French started their celebrated Repub- 
lic, at the close of the eighteenth century, and 
framed their first Constitution, they prefaced it 
with the Declaration of the Rights of Man. They 
were so enthusiastic over the perfection of this feat 
that they forthwith proceeded to declare to the 
European world that the time had come to destroy, 
extirpate and annihilate all kings, emperors, princes 
and other powers, and to substitute in their stead 

279 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the beneficent system invented by the energumens 
of the Republic. They marched their armies into 
Italy and Austria and Germany and would have 
fain landed them in England also. Their forces 
proclaimed everywhere the blessed Rights of Man, 
the first and chief of which, in practice, was that the 
French should tyrannize over every land in virtue 
of their marvelous discovery, or invention, which- 
ever it might be called. They were in deadly earnest, 
and sincerely convinced that they were called by the 
Supreme Being — so long as He lasted, for presently 
He also was found to be an inconvenient incumbrance 
and a relic of a barbarous past of ignorance and 
wretchedness, intellectual and physical — to prop- 
agate throughout the world the glorious principles 
of the Revolution, together with the efficacious con- 
verter that bore the name of good Doctor Guillotine. 
Their enthusiasm for Bonaparte was largely due at 
the first to the belief that this wonderful master of 
the art of war was working with a single eye for 
the triumph of those ideas. They found out their 
mistake presently, but they kept on then insisting 
that the European world should at least be French. 

Well, the average American was, not long since, 
quite of the same opinion and practised pretty nearly 
the same eminent virtues. He was equally convinced, 
and is now, that his form of government is so ut- 
terly superior to every other ever adopted by or 
forced upon any body of men, that it was his solemn 
duty to impose it upon all lands. There were dif- 
ficulties in the realization of this superb project: 
distance; the lack of a sufficiently large army and 

280 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

navy; stupid obstinacy on the part of European 
powers ; crass ignorance on the side of the European 
populations ; an indisposition on the part of the man 
in the street himself to abandon the making of money 
for the shedding of blood. A modification of the 
plan adopted and carried out by France in the good 
old days became necessary. The superiority of the 
American democracy must be made so plain to all 
men that all would clamor to have it adopted in 
the land of their birth. The supremacy of Amer- 
ican ideas must be preached in unmistakable ac- 
cents, so that even the deaf should hear, and the fool 
should understand. So far nothing better could be 
desired, and no one, even the most fossilized of 
European Conservatives could take offense at the 
program for the conversion of the earth to a great 
and stupendous imitation of the great and stupen- 
dous United States of America. 

It was in the application of the doctrine that the 
pecuhar spirit of certain portions of the American 
public manifested itself. Of all foreign countries 
there was one above all which it was essential to 
reduce to a fitting sense of its inferiority and in- 
capacity to exist as a power, whether a world or a 
parish power, and that country was Great Britain. 
So the efforts of the patriots, as they styled them- 
selves, were mainly directed to make the British un- 
happy, to bring them to a realizing sense of their 
pettiness and inefficiency ; to expose to the world the 
greed, the meanness, the selfishness of Britain ; to 
proclaim to all and sundry the wretched condition 
of the lands over which floated the Union Jack: 

281 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

Egypt, India, Ireland, above all Ireland, which had 
sent so many of its sons and daughters to America, 
and kept on sending them just as fast as the steam- 
ers could convey them across the Atlantic. 

This pastime of twisting the lion's tail, as it was 
called, flourished throughout the length and breadth 
of the land; it furnished the press with an inexhaus- 
tible theme; it provided demagogues and Fourth of 
July orators with a superabundance of material ad- 
mirably adapted to the comprehension of their audi- 
ences ; it enabled stately senators to work off 
speeches which else had not been listened to ; it made 
the fortunes of statesmen ; it was a rich sport, the 
more attractive that it was confessedly devoid of 
even the smallest particle of danger, for the British 
lion refused to be roused to wrath and watched the 
pranks of its distant revilers with a calm peace that 
was peculiarly odious to the more energetic among 
them. A sport that has passed away, alas ! mourn- 
fully reflects the few who would even now indulge 
in it, could they only muster a sufficiency of audi- 
tors and spectators. They recall the palmy days 
when the least allusion to England sufficed to evoke 
the most hysterical demonstrations on the part of 
an otherwise well-balanced people, and they patheti- 
cally remark that the times are out of joint in- 
deed. 

The anti-British spirit is by no means dead, how- 
ever, and the causes which gave it the vigor and 
asperity that distinguished it have not wholly dis- 
appeared. The tendenc}^ to bluster and threaten, 
which marked American relations with other foreign 

282 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

powers as well as with England, is dying out, and at 
the present time is rightly considered absurd by all 
the sensible men in the country. This fault — it may 
be permitted to term it that — -arose in large measure 
from the sense of growing strength. The United 
States was very much like a young fellow whose 
muscular strength is developing rapidly, and who, 
carried away by the very exuberance of his animal 
spirits, is apt to be rough and even somewhat brutal 
without the least inclination to harm. But as soon 
as the lad realizes his strength, as soon as he per- 
ceives that the mere display of it, on occasions when 
it is out of place and uncalled-for, affects him un- 
favorably, his common sense comes to his aid and 
he learns to husband his strength for the time when 
it should really be necessary to put" it forth. He 
does not care or wish to be brutal or aggressive : it is 
only ignorance that has made him so ; ignorance fol- 
lowed by knowledge of his activity and energy, and 
the desire to prove it to all and sundry. But once 
he sees that not only is his strength recognized, but 
gladly recognized, and the proper application of it 
applauded, the motive for needless exhibition of it 
is removed. 

The United States has passed through some such 
experience. The people could not help feeling that 
they were becoming, that they had become a mighty 
nation ; they could not shut their eyes, even had they 
wished to do so, to the fact that their country was 
becoming and had become one of the greatest and 
most powerful on earth. Their susceptibility less- 
ened; their readiness to take offense diminished; the 

283 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

steadying influence of reflection and responsibility 
made itself felt, and they assumed an attitude worth- 
ier of a mighty and enlightened land. 

Cut off^, as they were, from immediate communion 
with the nations of Europe, their interests, their 
modes of thought, their principles of action in gen- 
eral different from those of the countries on the 
other side of the Atlantic, feeling that their pur- 
poses and their methods were usually misunder- 
stood and grossly misrepresented, keenly alive to the 
ridicule freely showered upon them, imbued with the 
susceptibility of youth, rebelling against the in- 
adequate conception of their strength and progress 
which was so general and so firmly impressed upon 
the Europeans, they naturally exhibited a tendency 
to assert themselves which took the shape of off^en- 
sive attacks upon the forms of government estab- 
lished in the Old World, of contempt for the habits 
and manners of the inhabitants thereof, of insults 
and pin pricks, unworthy, no doubt, of a nation 
claiming greatness and influence, but easily intelli- 
gible once the causes of that conduct were examined 
into. 

From the moment that Europe in general, and 
Great Britain in particular, woke to the fact that 
the far distant Republic was really a nation, a 
power, able and ready to maintain its dignity, that 
the mighty struggle it had passed through was at 
once colossal and fraught with tremendous conse- 
quences to the human race, that Americans had 
won for themselves the place they clearly occupied in 
the world, recognition — though belated and, in some 

^84 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

respects, grudgingly granted — changed the disposi- 
tion of the Americans and induced them to assume a 
tone more consonant with their own real greatness, 
their own importance, their own share in the direc- 
tion of the world's affairs. No country, conscious 
of the intensity and vigor of its national life, can 
submit to be treated as the United States was too 
often treated by the chancelleries of Europe, by the 
press of the countries of Europe, by the speakers 
who had the ear of the public. That its ways were 
not the ways of the Old World did not seem to its 
people, and with perfect justice, any reason why 
they should be considered unworthy of fullest equal- 
ity with the most ancient realms, or should be 
scorned or laughed at as beings strangely different 
from the accepted type prevaihng in Europe. Na- 
tions and individuals alike have their sense of self- 
respect, their sense of deserving respect at the hands 
of others, and when that is denied, the high-spirited 
individual and the high-spirited nation alike will 
fiercely resent the stigma of inferiority sought to be 
fastened upon them. 

The Americans are not, in their nature, antagonis- 
tic to Europeans ; they are too close to them in in- 
numerable ways : they share with them traditions 
which, if less strong in their land, have a common 
origin and form a connecting link; they are as 
capable in every respect of solving the problems of 
life and government which come up incessantly on 
either side of the ocean; they have as clear a per- 
ception of civilization; they understand the reign of 
law just as well, even if they do revolt against it, and 

£85 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the feeling that they were looked down upon by 
Europe was absolutely unbearable to a proud race, 
whose deeds, if not equaling those of the fighting 
races in bloodshed, are remarkable in the fields of 
industry and science — a race which has demonstrated 
the falsity of the idea that the democratic form of 
government is applicable to a small territory only, 
and which has bestowed upon millions of immigrants 
from the Old World benefits that could never have 
been theirs in their native country. 

It must be added that the irritation felt toward 
Great Britain, especially, has been sedulously fos- 
tered upon other grounds and that methods of wilful 
misrepresentation have been and are still too fre- 
quently resorted to by those who seek to satisfy 
their hatred of a mighty empire or to exalt their 
own land at the expense of others. Several causes 
have been at work to develop and maintain the anti- 
British spirit, so visible even yet in certain circles. 
It is worth while to examine these seriatim. 

The first is tradition. "The evil that men do lives 
after them," and a city, a nation preserves long the 
memory of wrongs inflicted upon it. There is Ge- 
neva, for instance, the Calvinistic Rome, which to 
the present time celebrates its successful resistance 
to the night attack directed against it in the six- 
teenth century by the then Duke of Savoy, former 
lord of the town. The feelings of hatred and vin- 
dictiveness which of yore inspired the celebration, 
and which were fully as potent as the sentiment of 
gratitude to the Almighty for the deliverance vouch- 
safed, have practically died away. The Genevese 

286 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

of to-day entertain no dislike of the Savoyards or 
of the representative of the ducal race, but they 
maintain their anniversary and cherish the abhor- 
rence of their foes of more than three hundred years 
ago. The French are very good friends with the 
Enghsh, but Joan of Arc's burning and the defeat 
of Trafalgar and the rout of Waterloo stick in their 
memory. They are not in the least affected by these 
past events in their intercourse with England now- 
adays ; the entente cordiale is none the less cordial 
because of the reminiscence of them and they are well 
aware that the English, in common with themselves, 
deprecate and condemn the execution of their great 
patriot. But they properly and rightly keep on 
placing wreaths upon the pedestal of her statues, 
and they celebrate her anniversary with pious and 
patriotic enthusiasm. 

But the Genevese and the French alike have other 
memories of foes striven with and overcome ; the 
Genevese are Swiss as well as Genevese; they share 
the inspiriting history of the little Republic ; they 
recall Morat and Granson and Tell and Gessler 
with the same joy as do the "inhabitants of Zurich, 
Uri or any other of the Four Cantons of early days. 
The French fought the English for a hundred long 
years ; they fought the Spaniards ; they fought the 
Italians ; they fought the Prussians and the Aus- 
trians ; they won victories and they suffered defeats ; 
at sea they had a glorious record followed by one of 
terrible disasters. Their memories are fuller and 
more varied ; they have not concentrated them upon 
one incident, upon one war. That is the case with 

287 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the Americans. The prominent event in American 
history is the War of Independence ; next to it comes 
the War of 1812. Both these wars were fought 
against England. The War of Secession was an in- 
ternal strife, a civil contest, and while tremendous, 
fierce and bloody, it was fought between Americans. 
The recent Spanish war is not a great event; car- 
ried on against a nation plainly incapable of re- 
sistance to the overpowering might of the Repubhc, 
that contest has not aroused in the country any 
enthusiasm and is not looked back upon with any 
great pride. The one great nation with which 
Americans have fought, the one great struggle from 
which they have emerged with triumph is the strug- 
gle with the Britain of George III and the Britain 
that was engaged in the Napoleonic wars. The 
whole of the military glories of the country cluster 
round these two events, and it is not forgetting the 
memorable battles of the Civil War to say this. 
These battles are on another plane; there is no dis- 
position now, there scarcely ever was any, to mag- 
nify them or to draw satisfaction from them, be- 
cause of the nature of the strife out of which they 
arose. Every Northerner recognizes the fact that 
there could be but one outcome to that struggle: 
the defeat of the South, There was no real glory 
to be won in a fratricidal death-grapple ; sacrifices, 
abnegation, bitter sorrows, woeful disruptions of 
families as of the Union itself, but nothing that men 
would love to look back upon with unmixed pride. 
Both sides fought well and gamely ; both proved their 
devotion to the cause, and both were immeasurably 

288 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

glad when at last the inevitable surrender came, and 
the Blue and the Gray once more were united. 

It was different with the War of Independence 
and with the War of 1812. In the former, as in the 
latter, the young RejDublic was matched against one 
of the two greatest military powers in the world, 
and in both her arms proved triumphant more than 
once. That of itself would not have created or per- 
petuated a feeling of animosity toward the country 
of the foe, but the circumstances which led to these 
conflicts were such as to give rise to the bitterest 
feeling on both sides, and made between them a 
breach which was to be long in healing. The com- 
mercial interests involved in the War of 1812, the 
national self-respect felt to be at stake, embittered 
that contest, and the fruits of the two wars taken 
together were the angry and hateful spirit which 
could not speedily die away, and which, for pur- 
poses of their own, politicians kept alive, fanning the 
flame of slander and misrepresentation, and teaching 
garbled accounts of the origins and sequelae of the 
conflict. 

Even now most of the histories of the United 
States used in the public schools give but an imper- 
fect and erroneous view of a momentous event, these 
histories being, as a rule, rather partisan accounts 
than impartial statements of fact ; intended not so 
much to teach history as to conserve a tradition 
of hostiUty excited by injustice and ungenerous 
treatment of the thirteen colonies ; to impress the 
minds of the young with the belief that the wrongs 
inflicted were the work of the nation instead of being 

289 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

mainly the work of an obstinate sovereign, deaf to 
sense and reason, resolved to go his way, and reck- 
less of the consequences to a land which he ruled over 
but of which he was not. These histories do not, 
as a rule, tell how unpopular the war was in Eng- 
land, as also in the colonies, nor how leaders in the 
old country refused to have act or part in it. The 
object has not been history, but popular legend, and 
the result has been a totally false impression of the 
pohcy and conduct of Britain then and since. 

A young and spirited people finds it difficult to 
forgive or forget. For a very long period, smart- 
ing under the sense of injustice, a sense which grew 
keener as the sense of power grew also, the Amer- 
icans could not bring themselves to realize that the 
Britain of the nineteenth century, the democratic 
Britain, was different from that which, governed by 
a George, had denied them what they looked upon as 
their inalienable rights. 

Then came the Civil War, which set the North 
against the South and caused complications in the 
relations between these two parts of the country 
and the great European states. The advantages 
which, commercially, the business men of Britain 
were quick to see might be derived from the conflict 
between the two parts of the Union were naturally 
enough availed of, to the fierce wrath of the North. 
The Trent affair added oil to the blaze, and Eng- 
land already hated, was more cordially detested than 
ever. The ravages of the Alabama and the fitting- 
out of ships intended to prey upon Northern com- 
merce, the running of the blockade, spite of many 

S90 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

captures and of the ever-growing risk, were addi- 
tional reasons for the bitterness which daily grew 
and grew. Although, in similar circumstances, it is 
not doubtful that the Americans would have acted 
in precisely similar a manner, and availed themselves 
of the advantages oflPered them; although they had 
practically done this in the case of the Berlin de- 
crees ; it is not surprising that they should have 
resented the attitude of a large part of the British 
people, openly in sympathy with the South, 

But these feelings have been softened by Time, the 
great healer ; and men, no longer carried away by 
the angry passions of the days of war, have learned 
to take a calmer view of events which aroused such 
tremendous animosity. The Spanish war aided in 
this ; for, no matter what may be the inner story 
of the diplomatic side of that contest, it is felt in 
the United States that it was the attitude of Great 
Britain, standing as the firm friend of the United 
States, which prevented complications that might 
have led to unforeseen conflicts with other powers. 
Manila Bay was not only a victory for Admiral 
Dewey and his fleet; it was also a victory for those, 
on both sides, who earnestly desired that the two 
greatest nations on earth should henceforth work to- 
gether in concord. More and more has the entente 
between the United States and England become a 
guaranty of the world's peace, and the great change 
in the policy of the Republic toward the other na- 
tions of the world has done much to cement inter- 
national friendship and to remove possible causes of 
friction. 

291 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

Another, and important cause of the anti-British 
spirit, and one that is yet unhappily far from being 
removed, or even markedly diminished, is the deter- 
mined hostility of the Irish element. That element 
is numerous, noisy, poorly disciplined, credulous, 
fanatical, and chauvinistic. It is handled skil- 
fully by those who see in it possibilities of advance- 
ment and profit for themselves ; it is directed and 
controlled by men, many of whom are patriots in 
name only, and self-seekers in reality. But the Irish- 
man, with his fine traits, his quick temper, his pas- 
sionate devotion to tradition, his lively imagination, 
his intense susceptibility, his moodiness and way- 
wardness, his ready yielding to inflammatory ora- 
tory, is not always able to discern in his leaders the 
true from the false, and shouts as bidden, pays as 
ordered, and clamors as he is told for separation 
from the Empire. A cardinal principle of the direc- 
tion of the Irish element in the United States is the 
cultivation of an intemperate hatred of Great 
Britain and all her people ; a determination 'ever and 
on all occasions to misrepresent her and to traduce 
her ; to ascribe to her the foulest of motives ; to 
charge her with the worst of crimes. For a long 
time this system worked admirably, and the bulk of 
the American nation, already inflamed against Eng- 
land, willingly lent ear to the declamations of Irish 
demagogues and the denunciations of the abettors of 
murders and outrages. 

And here again it must be admitted that, no 
matter what opinion may be entertained of the ca- 
pacity of the Irish to conduct a government in a 

292 



Ml 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

decent and wholesome manner — and, in view of the 
administration of municipal government in New 
York, Boston, and other Irish cities, that opinion is 
likely to be unfavorable — in spite of this, it must 
be admitted that Irish grievances were numerous and 
serious and weighty; that the Irish had good rea- 
son to protest against the way they have been gov- 
erned; against the view taken of them by the major- 
ity in England. These grievances have largely been 
removed by the action of successive parliaments, 
and there is a fair prospect that ere long the Irish 
will be suffering from the worst trouble of all: that 
of having no grievance left. But the memory of for- 
mer maladministration is potent still, and it is more 
potent in the Irish circles in the United States than 
anywhere else. Many there be who have never set 
foot in Ireland ; many others who would not, if they 
could, return there to live, even with the exhilarating 
prospect of fighting the Government; but none the 
less these patriots from afar are among the most 
rabid of the opponents of Britain, and it is they 
who claim to dictate to the Federal Government 
what line of conduct it shall or shall not pursue; 
who, when Mr. Birrell's bill failed, announced that 
they would make Mr. Bryce's path a way of sor- 
rows ; who have warned the United States Govern- 
ment that they will not tolerate any truckling to or 
dealings with the oppressor; who gave freely of 
their funds to aid the Boers, not because the Boers 
were ever friendly to the Irish, for they were not — 
but because the men of the Transvaal and the Orange 
Free State were fighting England. 

293 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

It is this element which seeks to perpetuate ill 
feeling between the United States and Great Britain ; 
for the element, or its leaders, as a body, is con- 
vinced that it holds the balance of power in America, 
and that the Irish vote can compel the Cabinet at 
Washington to do precisely as it is told to do. It 
has had great influence in the past: it still has in- 
fluence, but not by any means approaching what it 
fondly believes. Americans have become tired, of late 
years, of being dictated to by a party which is 
only partially American, for the Irish are always 
very careful to call themselves not Americans, but 
Irish- Americans, thus emphasizing the fact that they 
come first and the country second. And it is recog- 
nized that if one race of immigrants is to be con- 
ceded the privilege of ordering the foreign policy of 
the nation, other races, becoming rapidly very nu- 
merous, and bringing with them causes of hatred 
against their original governments, may in their turn 
insist, through the medium of their votes and their 
persistent clamor, on moulding the relations of the 
country with other lands. 

Finally, another cause was at work, one that has 
ceased to have any power: jealousy of the greatness 
of the British Empire. Probably this statement will 
evoke the liveliest protests and the most spirited con- 
tradictions, yet it is a statement of fact and not of 
imagination. Emulation there now is, but this emu- 
lation has replaced the former jealousy, or envy, 
if that word be preferred. It is not possible for a 
country to attain the height of prosperity and power 
to which the British Empire has attained during 

294 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

the nineteenth century without stirring up envy and 
emulation. Very early the Americans laid stress 
upon the extent and magnitude of the British pos- 
sessions, and while they felt that their own country 
was called to as splendid a destiny, while they be- 
held its marvelous development and its phenomenal 
growth, they could not, being human, but feel some 
jealousy of that power which, far from having been 
crippled by the loss of its fairest colonies, was turn- 
ing its errors to account, mending its ways and dis- 
playing to an amazed world a capacity for adminis- 
tration of alien races such as had never been 
witnessed in the history of humanity. The Pax 
Britannica, the Might of Britain, ruler of the seas, 
compelled emulation, and caused envy. But so soon 
as the greatness of the United States became indis- 
putable, so soon as all European nations began to 
vie one with another in courting the friendship and 
support of the Great Republic, the feeling of envy 
was replaced by one of satisfaction: the end was 
achieved: if Britain was great, if the Old Country 
was powerful, so was the young nation that now 
stretched from one ocean to the other, that had 
fought a war for the maintenance of the Union, that 
had in the meantime developed resources so vast, so 
inimitable that all was open to it in the realm of 
commerce, industry and finance. Under those con- 
ditions, envy was out of place, jealousy absurd, and 
emulation alone, the emulation of an equal, suited 
to the dignity of the land. And that conclusion 
was sound. 

There is one point in which Americans and Britons 
295 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

are alike, in the matter of foreign relations: a not 
always veiled contempt for races of color. This is 
aside from the antipathy felt toward the negro by 
a large proportion of the inhabitants of the United 
States. The negro stands on a footing of prac- 
tical inferiority, whatever may be said to the con- 
trary by ardent advocates of perfect equality. But 
the reference here is to the races of Central and 
South America and of the East. Just as the 
Briton, while sacrificing himself to the welfare and 
uplifting of the races of India, nevertheless looks 
down upon them, just as the same Briton, laboring 
indefatigably for the raising of the Egyptian fellah, 
considers him an inferior being, so does the Ameri- 
can view the Mexican, the Latin-Americans, the 
Chinese and the Japanese. The latter, it is true, 
have greatly disturbed the conception of natural in- 
feriority, and their attitude toward Western na- 
tions has compelled these to revise their former ideas 
of the lower condition of the Orientals, but it is 
still true that the American is apt to class all for- 
eigners, of races different from his own, as "dagoes." 
This expression comes so readily to his lips that 
it is plain it renders his feeling exactly. The Span- 
iard and the Italian who enter the country and settle 
in it, the Greek and Armenian, the Slav and the 
Syrian all alike come under that broad designation. 
It is not intended to be deliberately insulting: usu- 
ally there is no thought of that in the mind of the 
man who uses it; it is simply a mode of expressing 
that conviction of racial superiority which is allied, 
in the American mind, to the conviction of national 

296 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

supremacy. The ancient Greek looked upon all for- 
eigners as barbarians, the Hebrew stigmatized out- 
siders as gentiles — and does so still; the Roman felt 
and manifested the heartiest contempt for those 
who enjoyed not the high distinction of Roman citi- 
zenship, and the Briton of to-day and his kin, the 
American, do in this respect, and with regard to aU 
races not of their own blood, precisely what Greek 
and Hebrew and Roman did of yore. 

In consequence of this rooted feeling the treat- 
ment of foreign races, of foreign nations, exhibits 
frequently a tendency to haughtiness verging on in- 
solence. It is not to be supposed that these nations 
should expect and obtain just the same sort of treat- 
ment which is accorded to Britain, France, Germany 
or Russia. They are not in the same class ; they 
cannot claim the same privileges ; they have not the 
same rights. That is the unspoken, unexpressed 
feeling of the masses ; the statesmen are hard put to 
it at times to conciliate this disposition with the ne^ 
cessity they clearly perceive of treating foreign 
governments with courtesy and fairness. The visit 
of the Secretary of State to the South Americans 
was the more impressive and the more effective 
on this account. It assumed the character of an 
educational trip for the Americans, and of a recog- 
nition, on the jaart of the mighty republic, for the 
countries and people so visited. But there were 
many in the United States who could not understand 
what need there was for such honor being paid to 
mushroom repubhcs and acknowledged tyrannies. 

The Philippines present an interesting aspect of 
297 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

this curious contradiction in principle and practice. 
The theory sedulously maintained is that the Phihp- 
pinos are free, that they are the equals of the 
Americans, that they are being trained to self-gov- 
ernment. The fact is that the Philippinos are not in 
the least free and independent, that they are in no- 
wise recognized as the equals of the conquering race, 
and that there is really no practical brotherhood 
between them and the Americans who lord it over 
their isles. And in a similar way the Cubans and the 
Porto Ricans, while unquestionably helped and edu- 
cated by the Americans, are very far indeed from 
being looked upon as are, for instance, the Germans 
who immigrate in such numbers into the United 
States or the Scandinavians who form so large a pro- 
portion of the population in certain states. 

This is quite natural, and simply proves that 
theories do not invariably fit in with hard facts. 
The civilization of Great Britain and of the United 
States is far in advance of that of most other lands. 
The people of these countries are firm behevers in 
freedom and justice; their ideals are practically the 
same; their methods of work are analogous, but all 
nations have not yet learned to believe in that su- 
periority. The Hindoos take from the British all 
the advantages with which the latter are ready and 
eager to furnish them, and then turn these to use 
against the ruling race. More and more wiU the 
unrest in India grow as the education given spreads 
more and more and excites ambitions and aspira- 
tions that must necessarily be antagonistic to the 
British Raj. So in the colonial possessions of the 

298 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

United States it will prove impossible to win the 
natives to a hearty sympathy with American meth- 
ods, which are essentially foreign to them, which 
they do not understand, and which they cannot 
understand. It is not enough to proclaim self-gov- 
ernment: it is first necessary to educate the people 
up to it, and such education must perforce be, in 
cases such as India on the one hand and the Philip- 
pines on the other, a matter of generations. Races 
which have never troubled about or been troubled 
by notions of equality and liberty, cannot assimi- 
late them by decree. The British method in India 
is better than the American method in the Philip- 
pines, for it is based upon the recognition of that 
fact. However there is no government in the United 
States that would dare to proceed on sensible lines 
in this respect, that would have the moral courage 
to proclaim the truth that races are not to be en- 
franchised in a day or by a mere dictum, as were the 
negro slaves by President Lincoln, but that it takes 
years and years to teach even a highly developed 
race what true liberty is and how it should be util- 
ized. It was not in one generation that the English 
learned to vindicate their personal and national 
rights, that the French grasped the lesson of prog- 
ress, and to expect tribes of savages to become in 
the twinkling of an eye capable of self-government 
is the very height of political folly. But that folly 
is imposed upon the United States Government by 
the rooted conviction of the citizens that everyone 
who comes into contact with American institutions, 
that passes under the Stars and Stripes, becomes 

299 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

thereby miraculously and suddenly endowed with 
qualities and powers of which there may have been 
no trace whatever beforehand. 

In its relations with European powers and with 
countries which, like Japan, have risen to the fore- 
most rank and require to be considered, there are 
difficulties of a different nature. The day is past 
when bluster and threatening, when imperiousness 
and aggressiveness marked the relations between the 
Republic and its neighbors across the sea. The tone 
and manner of American diplomacy have changed in- 
finitely for the better, and this not only without loss 
to the dignity and influence of the country, but with 
great increase thereof. The manners which are so 
plentifully lacking in the intercourse of Americans 
at home are to be found in their full beauty in 
the relations with foreign lands. Firmness, it has 
been found, can be allied with tact; resolution with 
courtesy, and the position of the country has gained 
enormously of late years in consequence. But there 
remains a difficulty which complicates the pacific and 
just settlement of disputes between the United States 
on the one hand and foreign countries on the other. 
That difficulty is the inability of the Federal Gov- 
ernment to protect the subjects of friendly foreign 
powers within its borders. 

Strange as it may seem, one of the most power- 
ful governments in the world is absolutely prevented 
from carrying out obligations solemnly entered 
upon, and finds itself repeatedly in the humiliating 
position of being compelled to acknowledge the fact. 
With the intense susceptibiHty of the American to 

800 



FOREIGN RELATIONS 

criticism of any sort, it is almost marvelous that 
the country has gone on so long laying itself open 
to just strictures on this point. A treaty between 
the United States on the one hand and a foreign 
government on the other does not, though it pro- 
fess to do so, guarantee liberty and safety to the 
nationals of that government within the boundaries 
of the United States. It is, in this respect, a one- 
sided aifair, of which the advantage lies with the 
American and the disadvantages with the foreigner. 
It is not a question of a party, or of antipathy, or 
anything of that sort: it is merely the result of 
the conflict between Federal and State authority. 
"State Rights" constitute the insuperable obstacle. 
No State in the Union has the power to make a 
treaty with a foreign nation; but every State in 
the Union has the means of nullifying the provisions 
in such a treaty which look to the protection of for- 
eigners. Italians are murdered and Italy demands 
indemnity and apology: the Federal Government 
replies that it is unable to act, because it has no 
jurisdiction over the State in which the crime has 
been committed; Japanese are attacked, and the 
Mikado claims that the treaty shall be carried out 
in letter and spirit, but the Federal Government 
finds itself confronted by the opposition of the State 
in which the regrettable affair has occurred. It is 
helpless ; a pitiable condition for the Government to 
be in. The country is well aware of this peculiar 
condition of affairs, but the moment it is recom- 
mended that some modification shall be introduced 
by which the engagements solemnly entered into on 

301 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

behalf of the nation shall be carried out in their 
integrity and without interference on the part of 
individual States, protests are heard and the very 
political existence of the members of the Cabinet is 
threatened. Yet a nation, a great nation, cannot 
shirk its duties and responsibilities ; not, indeed, until 
it discharges these in full can it truly claim to be 
called great. 

This is felt by very many in the United States ; a 
change is earnestly desired; the possibility of the 
national honor being jeopardized by local action is 
not contemplated with equanimity, and there can be 
little doubt that ere long the Federal Government 
will be fully empowered to carry out the provisions 
of international treaties regardless of the obstacles 
which at present exist. 



xvn 

ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

When a distinguished prelate of the American 
Protestant Church returned from England, not long 
ago, he was, as a matter of course, met on the land- 
ing stage by the usual band of reporters primed 
with questions, armed with pencils and notebooks, 
and prepared to dress up the statements the bishop 
might be induced to make, so that the "scare heads" 
should appeal forcibly to the curiosity of the public. 
That prelate had been most hospitably entertained 
in Britain and wherever, in the course of his jour- 
neyings, he had come under the British flag. He 
had heard his country extolled, and the cordial rela- 
tions existing between their respective governments 
dwelt upon with great satisfaction. He had listened 
to speeches of welcome and had replied to them; 
sentiment had been poured out freely on both sides, 
and the joy of union and harmony had been cele- 
brated and toasted. Probably he had permitted 
himself to quote the not unknown psalm: "Behold, 
how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to 
dwell together in unity !" Yet, he astounded the 
readers of the interview by saying: "You can de- 
pend upon it there is no love lost between the two 

303 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

countries. There is, I fear, a good deal of gush 
about it." 

There exist in the United States many British 
societies, mostly of a charitable or beneficiary char- 
acter, with one, the Victorian Club, of Boston, whose 
purpose was for some years, to cultivate better 
knowledge of Britain among the Americans. There 
are American societies, such as the Transatlantic 
Union of Philadelphia, and the Pilgrim's Club of 
New York, which also seek the same end. At all 
meetings of British societies the speakers, whether 
British or American, lay stress upon the kinship 
of the two nations, upon their community of lan- 
guage, of literature, of historical tradition, of ideals 
in politics, justice, freedom. They emphasize the 
importance of the bonds which unite the two lands, 
and they rejoice at the thought that the days of 
mistrust and suspicion are over and done with, that 
the times of enmity are past, and that the lion and 
the eagle are now firm friends, and earnest alHes, 
in fact, in promoting concord and peace throughout 
the world. 

Which is the true view of the relations between 
the two countries? That of the prelate who sees 
in the manifestations of good-will mainly "gush," or 
that of the British and Americans who see in them a 
proof of a better understanding and a gage of closer 
and sincere union .^ Are the efforts of the latter, 
however well meant, mistaken and foredoomed to 
fruitlessness.'' Is the bishop unwittingly a prophet 
and does he foretell further strife and dissension? 
Are the hopes of those Britons who, while passion- 

304 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

ately attached to their own country, love and 
admire and respect the United States and its peo- 
ple, futile and vain? Are the beliefs of the Ameri- 
cans who cherish sincere regard for Great Britain, 
who recognize the immense amount of good wrought 
by her sons in all parts of the world, who are not 
blinded by fanatical hatred of monarchy, are these 
beliefs naught but error? It would be painful to be 
compelled to accept this view of the matter. And 
it would be a mistake to do so. The prelate is partly 
right, but wide of the mark in other respects. The 
promoters of genuine friendship between the two 
nations are perchance too optimistic, but at least 
their object is a praiseworthy one, and their en- 
deavors will not all end in disappointment. The 
point to strive for is a clear perception of the real 
value and of the real meaning of this Anglo-American 
friendship, of the real nature of the relations between 
the United States and Great Britain. 

There are very many, in America, at the present 
moment, who entertain a deep-rooted hatred of Eng- 
land; that is a fact which cannot be blinked. The 
bulk of the younger generation, trained in the pub- 
lic schools, is taught to dislike and detest every- 
thing British, to cast contumely upon the people, to 
abhor the monarchial system, to consider the Meteor 
Flag the embodiment of cruelty and tyranny, the 
incarnation of all that is contrary to the spirit of 
freedom, whether personal or national. It is not 
safe, not entirely safe, at the present time, for a 
British subject to display the colors of his country 
in the United States. He must be prepared to see 

305 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

them assailed and hauled down, and it is at last 
doubtful whether he would obtain even a modicum 
of protection from municipal authorities in such 
an event. That in British possessions the American 
flag flies unmolested on the Fourth of July, or on 
any other day in the year, is not considered by the 
patriotic American a reason why similar courtesy 
should be extended to Britons in his own land. There 
no flag may float in assured security save the Stars 
and Stripes and, in most cities, the green ensign of 
Erin. The Union Jack has been borne through the 
streets of American cities and has been applauded, 
that is true ; even, mirabile dictu, it has been seen 
flying side by side with Old Glory from the top of 
the Bunker Hill monument in Boston, but these ex- 
ceptional marvels are not to be taken as a demon- 
stration of regard, still less of aff^ection, for the 
symbol of England's might. They are seed scat- 
tered in ground that may just as well prove rocky 
and unpropitious as favorable. It is possible that 
in the years to come the feverish susceptibility of 
the American may not only tolerate but welcome the 
sight of the Union Jack as freely as that of the 
Stars and Stripes is welcomed in England, but it is 
only a possibility — and a remote one. The American 
is essentially of exclusive tendencies. The earth is 
his, and the fulness thereof, and the Briton who 
has long believed himself the Elect must learn that 
he has a formidable and determined rival for world 
supremacy. The American Eagle sweeps over the 
universe, and whenever the American sees anything 
which can be construed into the badge of his national 

306 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

superiority, he never fails so to construe it. In a 
little Presbyterian church in Saint Andrews, in the 
province of New Brunswick, the visitor's attention 
is called to a handsome pulpit surmounted by the 
symbolical representation of the Holy Ghost, in the 
form of a dove. An American tourist immediately 
exclaimed: "Why! there is the American eagle!" 
And it was somewhat difficult to undeceive that pa- 
triotic person. 

The school training is perhaps next to Irish en- 
mity the most effective influence in perpetuating hos- 
tility to Great Britain. The character of the school 
histories has already been referred to. So long as 
that form of teaching is maintained, so long will 
perverted ideas on the subject of England and her 
policy be instiled in the minds of the young, and 
everyone who has had experience in this direction 
is aware that these early impressions are the most 
difficult to alter or eradicate. To most of the school 
children — and this is by no means an exaggeration 
— the British flag is the symbol of tyranny, cruelty 
and misgovernment. It represents the country 
which they are taught to consider the hereditary 
and bitter and treacherous foe of their native land. 
No matter what they may learn later, what they 
may observe for themselves in after life, the first 
impression remains and colors their feelings toward 
Great Britain. It is not to be completely eff'aced: 
it may be diminished, but the seed of dislike and en- 
mity remains. Ignorance, whether arising from lack 
of opportunities of instruction or from rooted 
prejudice, is one of the most fertile breeders of 

307 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

mistakes and conflicts. Neither the average Ameri- 
can has any clear and true notion of the England of 
to-day, nor the average Briton a sound apprehen- 
sion of the real greatness and power of the United 
States. On both sides there are wrong ideas ; on 
both a vast amount of appalling error to be cleared 
away. The two nations can gain only by becoming 
more closely acquainted, provided that acquaint- 
ance is based upon the recognition of certain facts 
which it is absurd to blink at or attempt to over- 
throw. 

The Briton must learn that the American nation 
counts for as much in the world as does his own, 
and which is going to count more and more every 
day; a nation which exists perfectly well without 
much, in the social constitution, which he is apt to 
consider indispensable to the due development and 
progress of a people; a nation which has a spirit 
of its own, a genius of its own, a way of its own 
of solving problems, a conviction that it is capable 
of handling difficulties for itself and in a way 
which is peculiar to itself; a nation which is very 
proud of its history, commercial, political, military, 
naval, and which does not for a moment believe that 
it has anything to envy in these respects in the 
nations of Europe. 

On the other hand, it would greatly conduce to 
the peace of nations and the progress of truth 
were the American to get into his head that words 
do not invariably and everlastingly represent un- 
changing facts : that because one country has a 
monarchial form of government, it is thereby ren- 

308 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

dered inferior to one that has set up the republican 
form under peculiarly favorable circumstances ; that 
monarchy has not always been an unmixed evil, and 
is not so now, but very often a great political bless- 
ing; that the ideas of one generation are not neces- 
sarily the ideas of the generations that come after, 
a point fully exemplified by the change in the United 
States themselves ; finally, that the Anglo-Saxon does 
not bear a grudge, or at all events, does not bear 
it long; consequently that the British,, when they 
speak of affection for the Americans, express a sim- 
ple truth, for they feel both admiration and respect 
for the country and its people. 

And both might well bear in mind that the pecul- 
iarities of Americans on the one side and of Britons 
on the other are precisely the things that make them 
known as Britons or Americans, and that it is folly 
to expect either of them to abandon their national 
traits. The Englishman is entitled to speak his 
language after his manner, and the American has no 
less a. right to modify the parent tongue to suit his 
needs and his preferences. 

The United States present the interesting spec- 
tacle of a race which still calls itself Anglo-Saxon, 
and yet which is every day becoming less and less 
purely so. The enormous, and ever-increasing immi- 
gration, which brings hundreds of thousands of for- 
eigners from every clime and of every stock into 
the country, and does this week by week, month by 
month, and year by year — that immigration is caus- 
ing a profound change in the constituent elements 
of the race. The fundamental element is yet, no 

309 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

r 

doubt, Anglo-Saxon, but the mingling of bloods, and 
-consequently of ideas and habits, is fast changing 
the general character of the race. There is a remark- 
able power of assimilation, which is incessantly at 
work. The children of the Slav, of the Scandina- 
vian, of the Latin, of the Oriental, become intense 
Americans, imbued with the sense of the power and 
greatness of the nation of which they are young 
citizens ; they acquire the American, not the Anglo- 
Saxon habit of mind; they have nothing in common 
with the British; they have neither sympathy nor 
natural admiration for the country from which the 
United States has sprung; their language is not the 
English of England, but the English of America ; 
their traditions are foreign to British traditions, and 
therefore to suppose that they are inclined to love 
England and the Enghsh, to gaze with gratification, 
mingled with awe upon the vast empire on which 
the sun never sets, is to make a mistake fraught 
with painful consequences to the optimist, who would 
base upon the supposed complete kinship of the two 
races a belief in perpetual amity between them, or 
even hopes of abnegation in the matter of diplomatic 
negotiations. 

It is easy to mistake the strength of feeling for 
England and things English. It is quite true that 
there are many families which take a pride in being 
descended from well-known families in the old coun- 
try ; that the love of English coat-armor is strongly 
developed among many individuals who can trace 
some sort of ascendancy in the land whence came 
the Washingtons and others ; that many an Ameri- 

310 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

can will at once say that were he not American he 
would prefer to be English, and this may be accepted 
without hesitation as a true expression of feeling. 
But he is an American, and an American he re- 
mains even if he take up his abode across the 
Atlantic. Few Americans abandon their allegiance 
to the Stars and Stripes, and this is an honorable 
trait in them. On the other hand very many Britons 
renounce allegiance to their sovereign, some be- 
cause they may not enter certain professions in the 
United States unless they have become citizens ; 
some because they believe that their chances of suc- 
cess are greatly increased by the change in their 
nationality; some from frank preference for the 
country of their adoption; many because they have 
married American wives, and the American wife is, 
as a rule, intractable on the question of allegiance 
to the land she has been born in and to which she 
is devoted. It may be taken as nearly certain that 
the Briton who has espoused an American and who 
makes his home in the States is at heart an American 
liimself, no matter how exuberant his outward devo- 
tion to his former or present sovereign may be. The 
whole atmosphere round him is American; he im- 
bibes it continually; his children are brought up in 
it; their schooling is American, and their affections 
are very naturally and very properly bestowed upon 
the land they have been educated in. When it comes 
to a question of choosing between the two, the nat- 
uralized American has no alternative; he must go 
and he does go with his new country; the non-nat- 
uralized Briton, the dweller in the land, will find him- 

311 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

self, if married to a native, in a position of exceed- 
ing difficulty. 

On the other hand, these naturalized Britons, and 
those who have married Americans, enjoy opportu- 
nities of influence which, to their credit be it said, 
they avail themselves of to promote cordial rela- 
tions between the two great nations. Their affection 
for the one does not suffer by their love for the 
other; their interests as well as their sympathies 
lead them to desire that concord and harmony shall 
reign, and that better knowledge shall be more widely 
spread. But neither they nor the unchanging 
Briton, true to his allegiance "in spite of all tempta- 
tions," can affect the cardinal fact that Americans 
are not at heart English, any more than the Eng- 
lish are Yankees or anything else. They may do 
their utmost to maintain kindly feelings ; they may 
speak eloquently on the ties which bind the two na- 
tions, but they cannot change the reality, which is 
that year by year the American nation is becoming 
less and less Anglo-Saxon and more and more purely 
American. 

But the optimists may consider that the ten- 
dency, so strongly and so frequently exhibited, to 
seek connection, family connection, with Britain, is 
a sign rather of closer kinship. It is nothing of the 
sort, any more than the fact, frequent in England, 
that a family claims with right to "have come over 
with the Conqueror," makes the members of that 
family desire to be Normans and French citizens. 
The pride of ancestry is unquestionably great, and 
the number of French names in the peerage is sig- 

312 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

nificant enough, but not one of the thousands of 
Englishmen whose ancestors were originally French 
would consent to part with his English nationality 
now. They are English to the core. In exactly the 
same way are Americans, though descended from 
some of the oldest and most Saxon of houses, Ameri- 
can to the marrow. They are proud of their de- 
scent, they refer with satisfaction to the fact, but 
that does not make them English, and in the unhappy 
event of a quarrel between the two countries, their 
English descent would not make them flinch one 
second from fulfilling their duties as citizens of the 
United States. 

Nor should too much reliance be placed on the 
community of language and literature. Neither 
language nor literature, though undoubtedly strong 
bonds, have ever availed to keep together in amity 
races sprung from exactly the same stock or those 
having formed part of the same empire. The fact 
that two men, coming from opposite ends of the 
earth, speak the same language, is not a guaranty 
of permanent good-will between them. Nor is it a 
pledge that the language will remain the same and 
that its influence will persist. There was a period 
during which the inhabitants of Italy, Gaul and 
Spain spoke the same speech and had the same civi- 
lization. That language was the tongue of an emi- 
nently imperial and masterful race; the civilization 
was the highest the world then knew; the laws were 
practically the same ; the political principles and the 
constitution of society were similar. Yet the lan- 
guage changed, and at the present day a French- 

313 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

man, an Italian or a Spaniard does not, simply as 
such, understand the speech of the other national- 
ities, although philologists insist that the three 
tongues are in principle ahke. Philologicallj they 
are; practically they are not, and the fact that 
they are all three Romance tongues never prevented 
and never will prevent the nations that speak them 
from pursuing their own policy, from quarreling 
with their neighbors, and from fighting them even, 
if need arise. Italian was in high favor at the 
French court when Francis I asserted his claim to 
superiority over Charles V and lost the battle of 
Pavia, and Spanish was currently spoken when 
Henry IV had to oust the Spanish garrisons from 
his towns and cities. 

That Americans should modify the English 
spoken in England, that they should change the 
meaning of some words, alter numbers of phrases, 
is not, therefore, to be wondered at. English is a 
living, not a dead, language, and the mark of a 
living language is continual change and development. 
Language adapts itself to the needs of the nation 
which uses it; it alters without ceasing both in the 
land of its origin and in the lands to which it is 
transplanted. It is bound to be modified, and all 
protests against this fact are as vain as those 
uttered against the weather, which man has never 
jet been able to affect. 

The English of England must perforce turn into 
American in the United States ; instead of the dif- 
ferences between the two forms of speech diminish- 
ing and disappearing, as some would desire, they 

314 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

are certain to increase and multiply, and the day 
will come when an American tongue will have been 
evolved from the parent stock. The American re- 
sembles the Anglo-Saxon in many ways; in many 
others he is quite unlike him, as seen in Britain; 
so with the language: at present it is still English, 
with some modifications and additions, but day by 
day it tends to become a separate idiom, one which 
will be formed out of the needs of the nation that 
uses it, a nation now no longer purely Anglo-Saxon, 
but a mingling of many races and many nationalities, 
each of which is contributing its share to the com- 
mon speech. 

The Americans are not, then, disfiguring the 
English language; they are adapting it, which is a 
very different thing. They are doing exactly what 
the English themselves are doing and have done 
for centuries, for the language of to-day has lost 
many terms formerly familiar, and has acquired 
many unsuspected of the writers of the seventeenth 
and eighteenth centuries. New words are coined, 
new terms produced, new meanings attached to ex- 
pressions of long standing ; orthography is changed, 
pronunciation is altered. The same processes are 
going on in the United States, and with absolute 
reason. To endeavor to stem the current would be 
idle. The change has come and will persist. One 
may feel sentimental regret at this ; one may oppose 
vehemently the alterations, but King Canute could 
as easily have triumphed over the advancing tide as 
the conservative purist can hope to succeed in 
maintaining forms that have been abandoned or ex- 

315 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

pressions that have come into use for the very reason 
that they express what the speaker desires to say. 

There is an enormous amount of bad writing and 
worse speaking in the United States ; that may be 
granted without difficulty, for it is patent to every 
educated man or woman. The specialists take the 
most terrible liberties even with the American Eng- 
lish they have learned at school and in college ; they 
have no respect for grammar; often none for sense; 
but this is not an American peculiarity; it is to 
be met with in every land, where there are always 
writers for the press — they are the worst offenders — 
who believe that the more extraordinary perversions 
are the more original and the more striking is the 
consequent style. The true test of the use of English 
in the United States is to examine the work of the 
leading writers and the leading speakers. It will 
be found that they do not differ much from their 
compeers on the other side. In the everyday tongue, 
more liberties are taken — assuming that they are lib- 
erties and not justifiable changes and adaptations — 
but, when looked at impartially, it is generally seen 
that these are in the direction of terseness and vigor 
of expression. Concentration, the use of ellipsis, a 
frequent subtleness of humor, of the best and the 
raciest — these are the traits most visible. The quick- 
ness and restlessness of the American manifest them- 
selves in his familiar speech as in his familiar actions. 
Accustomed to act swiftly, impulsively, yet with a 
solid basis of common sense and prudence, the 
American reproduces these qualities in the terms he 
invents and the phrases he constructs. He has the 

316 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

art, in a high degree, of endowing a well-known 
word with an altogether new meaning, and the mo- 
ment it is heard in that sense the appropriateness 
of the expression strikes the mind joyfully. 

It is the American tongue, arising and growing. 
And in the course of time it will be, although of the 
same origin as English, as little of a real bond be- 
tween the two races as French and Italian or French 
and Spanish form a bond between the nations which 
speak these languages. 

The literature follows the language, just as the 
Constitution does not follow the flag. At present 
there is not a great body of American literature 
such as constitutes a real national possession, but 
it is coming. Americans will no more be content 
to depend on Great Britain for their intellectual 
treasures in every branch of knowledge and imagi- 
nation than were the Germans satisfied to rest con- 
tent with translations and adaptations from the 
French once the national spirit began to manifest 
itself among them, Germany had been in a worse 
condition than even is the United States at the 
present time with regard to a purely national litera- 
ture, yet almost in the twinkling of an eye a splendid 
production took place and a blossoming of genius 
occurred. There is ample material for a great and 
varied national literature in America and there are 
intellects enough to supply writers of mark. Al- 
ready many admirable works have seen the light: 
great historians and notable philosophers have 
arisen; novelists of striking merit, capable of evolv- 
ing new forms and of exploring new fields have 

317 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

made their appearance. Poetry still lacks its mighty 
singer, and it may be that he will never come, and 
that the United States will never rival Europe in 
the domain of that form of literature, but even 
should this prove to be the case, a national literature 
will exist. 

The books which most please the American reader, 
especially in the range of fiction, are not invariably 
those that win approval in the old country. The 
American drama is not in favor in England, where 
it is imperfectly understood, while English plays 
have to be dressed up for American consumption. 
This is simply stating the difference between the 
two countries, and indicating the line of divergence 
in matters Hterary which will run farther and farther 
apart as generation succeeds generation. 

Frenchmen do not grow particularly enthusiastic 
over Spanish literature, even of that period when 
the tongue of Iberia and that of Gaul were so nearly 
akin as to be understood in the one and the other 
land. Had not Corneille transformed the work of 
Guillem de Castro into a French masterpiece, the 
blood of no Frenchman would run faster on hearing 
the "Mocedades del Cid" translated for him into 
his everyday speech. It is safe to say that the 
**JEneid" would not prove equal to the "Marseil- 
laise" in rousing the warlike passions of the masses, 
yet the *'iEneid" is written in the tongue from which 
modern French is derived. So with the lapse of 
years it is not to be supposed that Americans, who 
will have obtained for themselves masterpieces of 
their own, will become enthusiastic over British 

318 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

friendship and British alliances simply because Mil- 
ton wrote "Paradise Lost" and Shakespeare his im- 
mortal dramas. Even now, the plays of the great 
bard which thrill Americans are not so much the 
historical dramas, in which the Englishman learns 
the story of his country's greatness, as those com- 
positions which may be said to belong to every age 
and to every clime. 

The form of hterature which most binds peoples 
is the popular. The songs of England, of Scotland, 
of Ireland are heard the world over among Britons, 
but they are scarcely ever heard in America. That 
is, the American is not a singer in the way the 
Briton or, the Frenchman or the German is. He 
does not express his feelings in song, whether joy- 
ous or plaintive. He has produced no "Annie 
Laurie," no "Lass of Richmond Hill," no "Wearin' 
o' the Green ;" his very national anthem, "America," 
is but the national anthem of Britain, with words 
adapted to it ; the greatest university in the country, 
although endowed with a Department of Music, has 
borrowed an English air for its solemn functions, 
and has turned the pathos and charm of the original 
into something doleful rather than uplifting and 
stirring. This important link is wanting, and the 
music, the popular music, of the United States is 
that of a foreign and inferior race: the despised 
negro. There are, it is true, some beautiful airs of 
American origin, but there is not that mass of song 
which in older European countries expresses the 
sentiments of the people. Not the English or the 
Scotch songs and ballads are heard in common, but 

319 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the productions of the comic opera and the vaude- 
ville show. 

In manners and customs, in those habits which 
are most familiar, there is not the perfect resem- 
blance and harmony which would guarantee close 
ties. The American does not do things as the Briton 
does them: his home is a different thing from the 
traditional home of England; the house he dwells 
in is designed and planned in a fashion wholly 
unlike the ordinary English house. The American 
who goes to England complains that he cannot see 
over the wall or hedge which borders the road or the 
street; that his natural desire to view the residence 
and its surroundings is balked; that the churlish 
owner conceals himself and his belongings, violating 
thus one of the cardinal principles of democracy 
as practised in the United States: that no man 
has any right to privacy. The interior of the 
American house is open, as is the exterior; just as 
lawn merges into lawn, and garden into garden, 
without any visible line of demarcation, so does the 
planning of the interior provide for the throwing of 
hall and reception rooms into one large space. 

The American hotel is a public resort : Tom, Dick 
and Harry, without a sou to their names, march 
into the halls and reception rooms there and avail 
themselves of the commodities they find at hand; 
they cannot do this in the ordinary British hotel, for 
the public rooms do not exist, at all events not in 
such numbers or on such a scale as in the United 
States. The Englishman is careful to observe and 
respect the rights of private property; he will not 

320 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

trespass upon the grounds of his neighbor; he will 
not cut across spaces simply because the short cut is 
tempting. He will proceed round, and show that 
while he avoids trespass himself, he relies on its being 
avoided in the case of his property. But the Ameri- 
can is impatient of any restraint or restriction of 
this sort. For him there exists no right that is 
superior to his own, and all the notices against tres- 
pass, all the boards bearing inscriptions of a pro- 
hibitive character, are merely so many inducements 
to him to do the very thing he is told he must not 
do. There is a famous — and fine — monument at 
Concord, in Massachusetts, representing a Minute 
Man of 1776 on the watch for the British foe. It 
is worth seeing for itself, and it is most interesting 
in connection with the historical events it commem- 
orates. The situation is picturesque ; the surround- 
ings lovely, and the combination of all these attrac- 
tions draws many visitors to the place, which is 
reached by a wooden bridge spanning a stream. A 
notice has been put up requesting motorcars jwt to 
cross the bridge. They all cross it, after the chauf- 
feur and the passengers have read the prohibition. 
These things show a deeper difference in the spirit 
and character and habits of the two nationalities 
than is generally supposed to exist. In England a 
right of way is sedulously maintained against pos- 
sible closing by the owner of the land, but it is not 
sought to force an owner to let people traverse his 
property if their sweet will incline them to do so. 
In the United States the man whose pride in his 
lawn is justified by its approach to velvetiness, sees 

S21 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the casual passer-by cross it leisurely, and go on 
his way without the smallest feeling that he has in 
any way exceeded the bounds of propriety. 

In England the invited guest at a function is 
content to be welcomed and hospitably entreated, 
and to carry away memories only. But the 
American guest or casual visitor, a certain type at 
least, must have a solid token of his entertainment, 
and portable objects are apt to pass from the 
ownership of the host to the pocket of the guest. 
This is not called stealing; it is not even dignified 
with the appellation of kleptomania ; it is "carrying 
away souvenirs.'* The bronze bassi-relievi on the 
gates of the Capitol at Washington are witnesses to 
this habit of the American on a visit. The guides 
who show the tourist through the place will tell him 
that the moment Congress has adjourned it is neces- 
sary to remove curtains and carpets, else they disap- 
pear under the hands of the constituents who come 
to see the place where their representative is elo- 
quent. When the Duke of Abruzzi came with his 
squadron and entertained a company of visitors on 
board his flagship, he discovered, to his amazement 
and indignation, that as brilliant a razzia as ever 
was conceived and carried out by Raisuli had swept 
through his vessel. Even his own personal belong- 
ings had vanished. And the wrath which led him 
to express his views on the subject called forth the 
following statement from the American admiral: 

"The American souvenir hunters will steal any- 
thing except a cellar full of water. At Boston, on 
one occasion, I was in command of the Indiana, when 

322 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

a reception was given on board ship. It was the 
first time a first-class man-of-war had visited Boston 
harbor. When the reception was over, and we went 
to turn on the searchhght, we found that even the 
carbons had been taken. The screws on the search- 
light had been taken out, and the big lamp was unfit 
for use. An examination of the two dozen or more 
guns showed that all the gunsights had been car- 
ried away, while the officers' quarters had been robbed 
of everything that could be taken." 

Commenting upon this, a Boston paper remarks; 
"Nothing but profound mortification for Americans 
follows reading authentic reports of the pilfering of 
the Duke of Abruzzi's property and that of other 
members of his party while they were visiting the 
Jamestown exposition. Admiral Evans does not ex- 
aggerate at all when he describes his own experience 
here in Boston harbor with visitors to our own 
ships ; and the testimony of hotel-keepers, managers 
of restaurants and guardians of public property 
generally is uniform, namely, that we have come to 
be a people with a very shady reputation for pilfer- 
ing. People who would be insulted if called thieves, 
and whose word is inviolable in business or in ordi- 
nary intercourse, and who could be left for an in- 
definite time in the presence of coin of the realm, do 
not hesitate to take 'souvenirs,' as they call them. 
It is a habit that points toward other and worse 
deeds. It shows a breaking-down of moral fiber 
under way (sic) that will imperil good name and pos- 
sibly liberty itself later if temptation sufficiently 
strong comes along." 

323 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

La propriete c^est le vol seems to be the uncon- 
scious attitude of very many in the United States ; 
it does not matter what form property takes, 
whether the private grounds of a residence, the 
flowers and shrubs upon it, or the articles within 
the residence. There appears to be an irresistible 
tendency to do just what should not be done, per- 
haps by way of affirming the ever-proclaimed liberty 
of the American citizen. It is difficult to explain 
this radical opposition in habits between the Briton 
and the American save on that ground. It surely is 
not a liking for pilfering, for that does not apply 
in the least to the ineradicable custom of marching 
precisely where you are asked not to step ; it is no 
more, certainly, the wish to possess something in- 
trinsically valuable, for anything that turns up an- 
swers the purpose of a souvenir. It may be rudi- 
mentary socialism of the collectivist stripe, which 
leads its unwitting disciples to manifest in this way 
their belief that all property is in common, but what- 
ever the patent or secret motive of such conduct — 
condemned, as has just been seen, by the sound 
sense of the press and people — it is evident that here 
is an essential difference between the Briton and the 
American, the former having great respect for prop- 
erty and its rights, the latter very little. 

Of the ties which have been discussed the real 
force is sentiment, and to sentiment the American 
is exceedingly responsive, the large element of the 
emotional in his make-up accounting for this. And 
sentiment being an excellent thing in itself, in proper 
doses, it can be relied upon to further greatly the 

324 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

cordial relations between the two countries. It will 
be long ere the changes in language and literature 
attain the proportions which will make it difficult 
for the inhabitants of the two countries to hold the 
freest intercourse together ; till then, and after that, 
sentiment will play its part. It is sentiment that 
dictated the supremely chivalrous thought of flying 
the Union Jack side by side with the Stars and 
Stripes on that October day when the Honorable 
Artillery of London was visiting Boston; it is sen- 
timent that inspires the orators who dwell on the 
friendship between the two races ; it is sentiment that 
sends so many Americans to England to see with 
their own eyes the bust of Longfellow in Westmin- 
ster Abbey, the memorial window to Lowell, the 
Harvard Chapel in Southwark Cathedral, and then 
to visit Cambridge where John Harvard was edu- 
cated, Sorvoby, Austerfield and other places. It Is 
sentiment, allied to the conviction that it Is best 
for the progress of humanity that Great Britain 
and the United States should forever be at peace, 
that keeps alive the belief in the close kinship of the 
nations, and that fosters the efforts of societies 
which strive to disseminate true knowledge of the 
one and the other land. Herein is the large hope that 
ancient hatreds and past enmity will die out com- 
pletely, but it is not the only basis for that hope, 
and language and literature, and a common origin, 
and a common tradition are supported by a yet more 
powerful influence: the community of ideals. 

The United States is a democracy, with imperfec- 
tions and with disadvantages coexisting side by side 

325 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

with wonderful benefits. The American in principle 
abhors and detests class distinctions and honorary 
titles. The Briton is a member of a monarchy: he 
believes in that form of government which he has 
slowly evolved and patiently perfected till it has 
provided him with what is, probably, the most per- 
fect of democratic governments; for the mere pres- 
ence of an hereditary ruler and the existence of a 
peerage do not infirm the democratic principle of 
British self-government. Both nations are ardently 
devoted to that principle ; both have made notable 
sacrifices for it; both treasure it and are resolute 
not to abandon it. This is a strong tie between 
them, for it is one that cannot be loosened. And 
both nations apply the principle in the fullest meas- 
ure: justice is even, spite of the present fact that 
in the United States money too often causes it to 
waver — a temporary, passing phenomenon which ere 
long will be relegated to the past. Both believe in 
education for all, although in America greater prog- 
ress has been made in this direction than in the old 
land; in the latter the progress will be more rapid 
in the future. Both believe in political equality, and 
guarantee it successfully; both seek to preserve the 
rights of the minority; both aim to develop all that 
is best in national character; both strive for peace 
with honor. These indeed are the ties on which the 
lovers of both lands may count to hold together the 
greatest of republics and the mightiest of empires. 
As the years go on, as intercourse, already great, 
becomes greater and closer, as knowledge spreads 
and prejudice dies out, the two lands will more and 

326 



ANGLO-AMERICAN RELATIONS 

more draw nearer and more and more work for the 
good of humanity. In their hands he, to a large 
extent, the securing of the progress of civihzation, 
of concord, of peace. Both are awaking to a reali- 
zation of the fact, of the responsibilities it entails, 
and are abandoning old and wrong notions for a 
truer perception of their common task. 



xvni 

THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

Destined to be a blessing to the nations suffi- 
ciently advanced to understand and apply it, the 
principle of democracy bears within itself a danger 
to the communities founded upon it, a peril ever 
present, and ever ready to destroy the true life of 
the nation. That peril is tyranny by the masses and 
tyranny by the individual. The land where liberty 
reigns in virtue of equality of opportunities, where 
all men may rise to any position, where individual 
talent may confer any distinction, where there is no 
check of class distinction, no repression by tradition ; 
that land, if wisely governed by her sons, will re- 
main the home of real liberty and of genuine prog- 
ress ; will be as a light to guide the nations, and a 
hope of those that are yet enslaved. But if that 
liberty turn in the direction of lawlessness, it will 
speedily turn to anarchy, and for the glory of the 
past will be substituted the oppression of the fu- 
ture. No human institution has ever proved per- 
fect ; no form of government yet devised by men has, 
so far, shown itself capable of avoiding all dangers 
to the public weal, and democracy obeys the same 
law and is exposed to the same danger. 

328 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

Blindness and overconfidence on the part of the 
citizens of a state have ere now wrecked the most 
stable, apparently, of governments : blind trust in 
words and formulas ; overconfidence in the ability 
of the inhabitants to meet and overcome all diffi- 
culties, in the name of themselves. There is vast en- 
lightenment among the men of the United States ; 
there is not yet perfection of knowledge: there is 
wide political experience ; there is not yet certainty 
of fullest political science : there is varied skill in the 
handling of difficult questions ; there is not yet ab- 
solute reliability in the solutions. Americans, this 
may freely and gladly be granted, have already ex- 
hibited surprising power and talent in settling prob- 
lems both new and great ; they do not possess, albeit 
they may indulge to fond belief, the key to all the 
riddles of goverament. Republics, because demo- 
cratic in principle, are doubtless bound to replace 
little by little the imperial and monarchial and 
princely forms of government, but none yet, not even 
happy Switzerland, not even mighty America, is the 
ideal Republic. Often, too often, republic is but 
the veil of tyranny and harsh dictatorship. Not in 
the United States, doubtless, but in many another 
land, and this fact, which ought to be constantly 
present to the minds of the Americans, is too fre- 
quently lost sight of. 

True, it is improbable that the fate which over- 
took the Roman republic of old is in store for the 
Union of to-day, yet is it equally true that in the 
palmy days of Republican Rome few or none sup- 
posed that such a calamity was ever to befall the 

329 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

City of the Seven Hills. The fate of nations is not 
wholly on the knees of the gods ; nations, like indi- 
viduals, largely fasliion their doom for themselves. 
As they work, as they plan, as they act, so befalls 
their end. To the individual is given a trust; his 
life, and its effect on himself and those around him: 
to nations likewise a trust; their power and their 
influence for the advancement of humanity; and as 
they discharge that trust, so do they become great 
and free in the eyes of men, or small and enslaved 
to their own shortcomings and their own faults. 

Democracies are peculiarly subject to the danger 
of tyranny, and the stronger they grow, the larger 
they become, the greater grows the peril. With the 
accumulation of wealth, with the development of in- 
dustries, with the extension of commerce, with all 
that goes to make up worldly success, the danger to 
real liberty increases in a ratio that astounds those 
who afterward behold the effects of the ills that 
have sprung from what were blessings. 

Men remain men throughout the ages ; their 
growth in self-mastery is painfully slow; their ac- 
quisition of virtue, as individuals or as societies, 
lamentably lingering. The American of this twen- 
tieth century, heir to so many civilizations, possessor 
of so many advantages denied to the innumerable 
generations which have preceded him on earth, is 
apt to be carried away by a feeling of overweening 
pride in the achievements of his race, and to deceive 
himself into the belief that never has there been and 
never will there be any nation hke unto his own, so 
richly endowed mentally and intellectually, so ener- 

830 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

getic, so far-sighted, so quick of apprehension, so 
ready to seize opportunities, so steadfast in the de- 
fense of its natural rights, so keen to protect its 
conquests in all realms, so able, so resolute to hold 
fast to that liberty which untold millions have sighed 
for and never beheld save with the eyes of hope, which 
millions on millions long for now and see unattain- 
able. In the splendid onward rush of success which 
attends him, in the intoxicating sense of triumph 
which continually mounts to his brain, he is apt to 
forget; and as he forgets, some parcel, some small 
portion of that highly-prized and much-vaunted lib- 
erty escapes him, not again to be regained save at 
the cost of efforts most dire and most trying. 

The American stands to-day, more than the mem- 
ber of any other race upon earth, as the representa- 
tive of advancement, of progress. On him rests a 
responsibility so great that it might well make the 
boldest pause ere endeavoring to discharge it fitly. 
He knows not fear; he is full of confidence: two 
excellent helps in the carrying-out of his work. But 
he is inclined, too much incKned to trust in the 
magic power of his name, of his form of government, 
as the men of old trusted in their bow and spear. 
And as he founds himself on this magical name, 
on this perfect government, lo ! it brings forth tyr- 
anny and slavery and wretchedness and woe to thou- 
sands in his land. His liberty is threatened by no 
external foe, but by the more insidious and dan- 
gerous secret enemy within, sprung from democracy 
itself. 

Many years have passed since Heine said that 
331 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

''democracy brings forth two kinds of men: those 
who establish it and those who destroy it — Washing- 
ton and Bonaparte." Many years have passed, yet 
the saying remains true. And it is the present dan- 
ger of the United States that it is bringing forth 
men whose deeds and whose policy are surely de- 
structive of the true liberty for which the Fathers 
fought. Inordinate pride, unbounded self-satisfac- 
tion, lust for power, greed for money, determination 
to have their own way regardless of the rights of 
others, these are the characteristics of those who are 
sapping the very foundations of the stable govern- 
ment of the land. These are the things which, un- 
checked, will work the ruin of the democracy as 
surely as the sun rises and sets in the heavens, and 
were it not that many minds are awake to the peril, 
that many men are striving against it, that the 
sense of the people to the need of vigilance and 
action is being aroused, an evil day were in store for 
the great country. 

Where individualism plays so large a part in the 
everyday life of a nation as it does in the United 
States, where opportunity is so wide and so free, 
where man may dare and do, as he may in that 
land, the desire of the heart is apt to be for uncon- 
trolled power and absolute might. So arise those 
who unconsciously at first, open-eyed afterwards, 
take on themselves to tyrannize over the public. 
With the growth of the sense of power comes the 
almost irresistible wish to increase that power to the 
utmost. Ruthless and unscrupulous, the successful 
man degenerates into the tyrant, and he need not be 

SS2 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

a political despot: the field for autocracy is broad 
and presents many chances to him. He may rule 
alone over mines and their millions of dependents ; 
he may bind together the laborers in the cities; he 
may unite in his grasp the lines of transportation; 
he may subject to himself the wealth of financiers; 
he may hoard the food of the people; no matter in 
what particular fashion he sets to work to gratify 
his instinct for absolutism, he attains his end to the 
detriment not alone of the individuals whom he causes 
to suffer, but to the yet greater loss of the liberty 
of the State, and the principles of justice on which 
it is based. 

When he associates with himself others, engaged 
in some similar or alhed business, when he conceals 
himself behind the soulless corporation or trust, 
he is none the less a tyrant, such as his forefathers 
hated and fought. He calls himself by the name of 
a Trust or a Union, but he is a despot using his 
tremendous power not for the advantage of the 
country but for his personal profit. He bears no 
golden scepter in his hand, wears no jeweled crown 
on his head ; men call him not Majesty as they cringe 
before him, but they cringe, as did the Egyptians 
before the Pharaohs, as did the French before Louis, 
fourteenth of the name, as the Russians before their 
Czar. They tremble at his nod, they obey his 
behests, they fulfill his commands, for he has the 
power to enforce them, and that power he uses with- 
out clemency, without mercy, without fear. For 
whom has he to dread? Is he not sovereign of the 
souls and bodies of men? Does he not buy them 

333 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and use them as it pleases him ? Who is there to say 
him nay in his progress in wealth and omnipotence? 
He controls the press that is venal ; he cares not for 
that wliich is honest and incorruptible ; he holds the 
treasure of the land in his grasp, and for the pos- 
session of some small share of these he knows that 
many men will sell themselves and all they ought to 
honor. He cannot, it is true, buy them all; but he 
need not do so; he can always count on a large 
following, large enough for his purposes ; he can 
rely on finding hired defenders who will swear he is 
the most beneficent creature and the most pure- 
minded the sun of God ever shone upon. He cares 
not a straw for the high-minded; not a stiver for 
the just; he despises the incorruptible; he con- 
temns the upright in heart. He reigns by virtue of 
his wealth, which is his strength, and so long as he 
is rich beyond the ability of men to understand, so 
long is all well with him; so long will he have his 
sycophants and his flatterers, and so long will he 
ride rough-shod over the laws of the land. 

The laws of the land! They do not exist for 
him ; he is above them ; he flouts them, and only when 
they, administered by wise and impartial and coura- 
geous judges, interfere with his tyrannical progress 
does he stay for one moment to curse them and 
declare they ought to be swept from the path of 
such as he. 

This particular type sets its ambitions on doing 
certain things in the management of the lines of 
communication and transportation. So far, the 
purpose appears innocent enough ; but in the execu- 

SS4i 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

tlon of it, the master mind necessarily has to take 
account of those institutions which may advantage 
him or the reverse, and as such a man does not pro- 
pose that institutions shall injuriously aifect him, he 
straightway proceeds so to manage them that they 
shall be subservient to him. Thus, little by little, 
and often with a rapidity unsuspected by the vast 
multitude of citizens, the autocrat carries out his 
scheme and attains the end he seeks. 

There is the refuge of the courts, fortunately, but 
even the courts find themselves unable to control 
or check, in every case, the dangerous progress of 
the giants of finance and speculation. For these 
men, wise as serpents, never fail to have at their 
counsel able lawyers in whom the love of gain over- 
rides the sense of duty to the public ; lawyers who 
are ready to place their skill in using the law at 
the service of the law-breaker. Let another extract 
from a public print emphasize this point ; it is from 
a first-class newspaper in New England, and treats 
the question raised by the eloquent Bourke Cockran 
in Congress : 

"In his recent speech in the House, Bourke Cock- 
ran expressed his belief that 'there are at this mo- 
ment no resources at the disposal of society suf- 
ficient to put any man possessed of eight or ten 
million dollars in jail.' He admitted that 'it is a 
humiliating confession, but it may as well be made.' 
'We all deplore it,' he declared, 'but no man has yet 
raised his hand to strike when the perpetrators of 
crime command millions.' And he asked his col- 
leagues if this is not 'the most sinister, the most 

335 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

ominous spectacle ever presented in the history of 
this country.' This is scarcely accurate . . . yet 
there is no doubt much truth in Mr. Cockran's 
claim. There are very eminent men of millions in 
New York, who have, it is alleged, committed per- 
jury in addition to violating the criminal code as it 
relates to the officers of trust companies and other 
financial corporations. Nobody expects that they 
will be sent to jail — though District- Attorney 
Jerome or the State's Attorney-General may yet dis- 
appoint expectations in this particular." 

And the paper, having thus admitted the exist- 
ence of the evil, seeks to ascertain the cause, and it 
finds it in the action of lawyers who "build up for- 
tunes by telling rich clients how to 'beat the law,' " 
and in "the lawyer-made laws," cunningly devised 
for the protection of their clients. Between excep- 
tions, stays, appeals, writs of various sorts, bail and 
other legal obstacles that block the path of justice 
like a labyrinth of pitfalls and barbed-wire fences, 
even a resolute prosecuting officer like Folk or 
Jerome finds it difficult to convict a rich law-breaker 
and actually get him into jail. 

In olden times in Europe the robber baron in his 
eyrie laughed at the process of law as it was in his 
time. He was safe in his stronghold and defied any 
power save that of a stronger than himself; the 
feudal lord mocked at the edicts of the King and 
yielded to them only when his fortresses were taken 
and his bands of retainers destroyed. The modern 
law-breaker relies on the intricacies of the law it- 
self, to which he turns for the purpose of finding 

S36 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

means of avoiding the law. The oppression of the 
people bj the feudal lords caused the peasant insur- 
rection; the oppression of the masses by the mighty 
rich and the trusts will bring about an insurrection, 
taking another form, of course, but more danger- 
ous to the men against whom it will be directed. 

Already it has taken shape, and a new tyranny 
has arisen to combat the other; the tyranny of 
labor, itself most grinding while most effective. 

It was inevitable that, in opposition to the oppres- 
sion of capital there should be formed a union of 
the workers. Labor has its rights, although these 
have not always been recognized, and once the la- 
borers, in whatever trade, manufacture or industry, 
were taught to perceive this fact, it became compara- 
tively easy to draw them together and to marshal 
them as an imposing force destined to combat the 
conditions under which labor struggled. There can 
be, there is no doubt of the right of the working- 
men to unite in this fashion, nor can there be any 
doubt that the labor unions have wrought great and 
lasting improvement in the condition of the em- 
ployees. In so far as they confined themselves to this 
task, they merited nothing but the heartiest ap- 
proval of the lovers of liberty and democracy, for 
liberty is not consonant with oppression in any form, 
and that man is not free who has to submit to in- 
justice. 

But, unhappily, the labor unions speedily went 
beyond the proper sphere of action in which they 
could exercise their rights. It was proper and just 
that they should seek to improve the rate of wages, 

337 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

wherever that was possible; that they should obtain 
fixed and suitable length of hours for their mem- 
bers; that they should strive to put an end to child 
labor and to the employment of young lads and of 
women in ways hurtful physically and morally to 
them; it was right that they should ask their mem- 
bers to stand together and to make sacrifices at need 
for the sake of the principle they advocated. So 
far the unions remained within the strict limits of 
liberty, which ought to be common to all men, and 
they rightly and properly set their strength against 
the power of capital. But when they went further 
and took to forbidding members from working with 
men not in the unions, when they endeavored to pre- 
vent those who were Avilling, although they them- 
selves were not, to work under favorable conditions, 
or for a wage less than the unions required, they 
overstepped the bounds of right. When their sym- 
pathetic strikes — a tremendous weajion, used re- 
morselessly — reacted not only upon the firms or cor- 
porations they were fighting, but also upon the 
utterly innocent public, then they entered upon a 
course fatal to the principle of the democratic Re- 
public of which they are citizens and in which they 
enjoy the protection of the laws and the advantages 
of stable goA'^ernment. It is not intended here to 
enter into the vexed and complicated question of the 
relations between capital and labor; it is sufficient, 
without doing so, to mark the fact that the plan pur- 
sued by so many of the unions, of striving to pre- 
vent men from accepting and retaining work on 
any terms other than those approved by the officers, 

S38 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

is a direct attack on the liberty of the individual 
and on his right to earn his livelihood in an honest 
way. 

The unions do not seem to perceive that their own 
actions must eventually bring about a demand for 
the enforcement of the laws which guarantee that 
liberty, and that the enforcement will in its turn 
create the possibilities of autocratic government. 
The more the law is broken in a democracy, the 
more it is disregarded, the more the mass of the peo- 
ple is made to suffer unjustly through the strife 
of capital and labor, the more rapidly will that 
democracy be led to the strong man who can deliver 
it from the double bane, and the more readily will 
it be induced to delegate its power to him for pro- 
tection from its internal enemies. For all who at- 
tack liberty are the enemies of democracy, how- 
ever specious may be their arguments, however un- 
selfish may be their professions. And capital used 
to tyrannize over the people, and labor unions em- 
ployed in coercion, are equally foes to the true free- 
dom which men look for in the United States and 
have a right to expect that they shall enjoy in its 
fulness. 

If men would only look clearly at facts, if only 
they would reason with themselves and apply their 
minds to a study, even superficial, of the history 
of other lands and other societies, they would under- 
stand that no surer means of destroying democracy 
can be found than turning the advantages and bless- 
ings it is so fertile in, into means of oppression. 
It is inevitable that, under such circumstances, the 

339 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

people should turn toward the government for 
aid and succor, and this is regrettable in many 
ways. It is not desirable that the Executive should 
be clothed with powers so ample that they prac- 
tically amount to autocracy ; it is bad for the holder 
of the office and it is worse for the noble people who 
commit the mistake. It leads them to rely upon 
force, in some form, instead of upon the due appli- 
cation of the laws ; it teaches them to forget their 
own responsibilities and to place them upon the 
shoulders of others ; it induces them to forget the 
cardinal principle of democracy, that the government 
is of the people, and not of a man or a set of men, 
however able, distinguished and patriotic. 

Yet the tendency in the United States, as with us, 
is dangerously in this direction. Instead of cour- 
ageously and intelligently facing the problems — and 
in all conscience they are weighty enough and seri- 
ous enough — instead of striving to have the laws so 
administered -and enforced that they shall compel 
real respect and instant obedience, men are more and 
more inclined to resort to what they are pleased to 
term "paternalism" in government but is really 
autocracy. And granting that it were not the in- 
evitable outcome, granting that the government ran 
no chance of degenerating into a despotism estab- 
lished by the consent of the governed, what likeli- 
hood is there that matters would be improved, when 
the government is, after all, the creature of the vot- 
ers.'^ If the unions on the one hand and the cor- 
porations and trusts on the other are able to con- 
trol it in large measure through the influence at 

340 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

their command, what probablHty is there that in- 
crease of power in the Government itself would bring 
about real and permanent improvement in the con- 
ditions complained of as unbearable? Could it be 
assured that the men at the head of the affairs of the 
Nation would always be thoroughly disinterested, 
without fear and without reproach, even then harm 
would result from the abandoning of the duty of 
the people itself to cure the ills it suffers from. 

A democracy is laden with greater responsibilities 
than a monarchy, even than a so-called constitu- 
tional monarchy such as may be seen in some parts 
of the continent of Europe. That it has greater 
responsibilities is a part, and an essential part, of 
its existence. The government which is of the peo- 
ple must remain a government by the people and 
for the people, and not one administered exclusively 
by a body of men, no matter how select, how well 
chosen, how well qualified for its task. That is the 
point which must be pressed home to the minds of 
all men in a democracy. Their political education 
is important ; they need to have it ; it is indispensable 
to them. They must be made to realize that their 
fate, the fate of the nation, economically, socially, is 
in their hands, and must remain in their hands unless 
the whole structure and principle of the government 
are to be altered. 

The trusts and corporations and the labor unions 
are too selfish and too narrow in the view they take 
of their relations to each other and to the great 
public. A democracy is a brotherhood, and in a 
brotherhood there must be continual concession 

341 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and compromise if harmony is to be preserved. It 
is not the setting of one class against another, it 
is not the creation of classes, it is not the division 
of a large part of the population into capitalists 
and workers that will maintain or further the 
democratic ideas on which the Union has been estab- 
lished and by which alone it can live and prosper. 

There must be recognition, and very practical 
recognition, of the need for concord, for justice, for 
the firm and strict application of the laws, for 
righteous dealing; for thus only can the progress 
already made be continued and increased and the 
permanent happiness and welfare of the citizens 
be secured. The war between capital and labor, for 
it is nothing else, is harmful in the extreme. The 
laboring man is justified in seeking and demand- 
ing improvement in his condition, already so greatly 
improved; the capitalist is justified in asking pro- 
tection for the wealth he has amassed, but neither 
capital nor labor has a shadow of a right to resort 
to tyrannical methods in order to gain its point. 

There is something higher in the country than 
either of these two opposing forces : the people 
themselves, who are ground between the upper and 
the nether millstones. There is something vastly 
more important than the acquisition of wealth 
beyond the dreams of avarice, as the phrase goes, 
and that is the good name of the Nation. There 
is something of more value than the claim of the 
striker to prevent others from taking up the work 
he has abandoned of his own free will, and that is 
the right of every man to life, liberty and the pur- 

342 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

suit of happiness. Destroy that right, as it is 
being destroyed in this savage conflict, and with 
it is destroyed the true spirit of democracy; pre- 
serve it at all costs, and the work of the Fathers 
will not have been in vain. 

The cure for the evil is plain: it lies in the educa- 
tion of all citizens ; not merely the education which 
takes account of history, in fragmentary and rudi- 
mentary fashion, not merely the education which 
gives but a varnish of knowledge, but that larger 
education which teaches men and women alike their 
duties toward the commonwealth. In that educa- 
tion lies at once the hope of the Republic and the 
salvation of democracy. It is impossible to lay too 
much stress upon this point. It is the important 
one, the point on which depends prosperity in the 
future, not material prosperity, but that high and 
better moral prosperity without which the other is 
empty and vain, leading only to corruption and 
eventual destruction. 

And what Briton, at the present time, calmly 
observing the manner in which government has been 
and is being carried on in his own dear country, 
democratic, as is the United States, but will sorrow- 
fully reflect that the same dangers threaten his land, 
the same causes are at work, the same tendency 
toward autocracy manifest? 

There is, however, a diff^erence; the apathy of 
our people is infinitely greater; their indiff^erence 
to vital questions is much more marked; their ten- 
dency to accept evil legislation simply because the 
party in power has decreed that it shall be accepted 

343 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

is more marked than the same fault in the United 
States. The American caucus is no more tyran- 
nical than the Parliamentary whips; the Adminis- 
tration no more determined and contemptuous at 
times of the rights of the people than is a British 
Cabinet. These late years among us have shown 
that to the procrastination of the Conservative 
party to push through measures of social and con- 
stitutional reform unquestionably called for by the 
change in economic, social and political conditions, 
has succeeded the insolent attitude of the Radical 
Coalition toward the constituencies, and the forcing 
through of measures without discussion and the 
bringing of the country to the verge of civil war. 

Here, as in America, men are too apt to think and 
speak only of their rights and to wholly disregard 
and ignore their duties. And it is a source of com- 
fort to the writer of this book to hear other voices 
raised that recall men to a sense of duty. In his 
Cambridge lectures on Military History, the Hon. 
J. W. Fortescue said: 

"There is really only one political or social prin- 
ciple which has any permanent worth, and it is 
expressed in the homely proverb, 'Give and take.' 

"What is the civic form of this proverb.'' It is 
this : No rights without duties, no duties without 
rights. In England I am afraid — though I may be 
wrong — that for some time past there has been too 
much prating of rights, and too little reflection upon 
duties ; though the commonwealth depends for its 
stabihty upon the equal recognition of both." 

The dangers which threaten the success of demo- 
S44 



THE PERIL TO DEMOCRACY 

cratic government in the United States are evident 
among us. The remedy in either case is the same; 
recognition and fulfilhnent of duty toward the 
State; direct and practical interest in the adminis- 
tration of the government; determined retention of 
power in the hands of the voters instead of con- 
centration of power in the hands of an oligarchy. 



xrx 

THE CONCLUSION 

What, finally, is the belief of the observer who, 
noting the strange contradictions, the surprising 
differences, the peculiarities, the continuous strug- 
gle, the varied influences and causes at work among 
and upon a people compounded of so many nation- 
alities based upon a sturdy Anglo-Saxon stock? 

That the popular impression that the United 
States is indeed the land of liberty is a just and 
true one. It is perfectly certain that liberty, as 
the Englishman understands it, is not as large or as 
common as in England; it degenerates into license 
and lawlessness at times, but in other directions it is 
genuine and complete. Every nation is apt to have 
a varying conception of liberty. To the American, 
to the native, as to the newly-arrived immigrant, 
it is unquestionable that the country offers the form 
of liberty for which he craves. The native American 
sees himself guaranteed the political independence 
which is so dear to him ; the immigrant beholds him- 
self rid of the trammels which bound him down 
in his own land. The educated European who makes 
his home in the Republic, ere long learns to dis- 
tinguish between the merely superficial manifesta- 

346 



THE CONCLUSION 

tions of the American form of government, of the 
American character, and the deeper and entirely 
sound basis of both. A man is indeed free in the 
United States ; whether he be a poor wretch seek- 
ing peace and the chance to make a living, or 
whether he be in easy circumstances and enters 
business or one of the professions. He can speak 
his mind; he can aim high and attain success, if it 
be in him to succeed ; he is not troubled by obstacles 
due to tradition or to convention; he is taken for 
what he is worth, really worth, and if he have the 
steadiness and application and talent which insure 
mastery, he is certain to win it. Nowhere, as in 
the United States, is it so true that a man can carve 
his way for himself. Effort and ambition are ap- 
proved, and when the reward comes it is not grudged. 
It takes earnest labor to reach the goal; plenty 
of it. The competition is keen and hard, but it is 
all worth while, for the triumph ultimately obtained 
is a personal triumph. 

It is a land of unbounded possibilities for the 
worker, no matter in what line; of unbounded op- 
portunities for the sturdy and steady man, and for 
the resolute woman. Both sexes find here chances 
such as they cannot find in the Old World; chances 
that are ready to be availed of; and men and 
women alike discover ere long that the secret of 
success is work, strenuous work, and honesty, and 
straightforwardness. These things insure the gain- 
ing of the coveted end, and they are good things 
to have. 

It is not a land for the idle, the lazy, the in- 
347 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

capable. These will inevitably be pushed to the wall. 
Influence, if they possess it, will not long bestead 
them. It is personal worth which alone tells in the 
end; without it, and the determination to make the 
most of it, it is useless to affront the fight for life 
and competency. The morally weak, the intellec- 
tually feeble go down at once; the strong alone sur- 
vive. The battle of Hfe is a reality in the United 
States: there is no sitting down to lament the hard- 
ness of one's lot; the only thing to do is to strive. 
It does not answer to be content with one's station 
in life ; that is not the way to succeed in that coun- 
try. Men and women must ever be ambitious, and 
determined to reach higher yet. That is the strenu- 
ous life so much spoken of. It is true that it is 
strenuous ; it is also true that it is healthy and in- 
spiring life; it is life in very sooth, albeit it lacks 
entirely the sweetness and restfulness it has in the 
older countries of Europej in the highly civilized 
lands where social distinctions have set almost in- 
surmountable barriers in the way of the masses. It 
is a life of continual work, of unceasing anxiety, 
but one feels the excitement and interest of it. The 
stimulus is agreeable, and if many fall by the way- 
side, spent with the strain of it all, it is at least more 
satisfactory than slowly rusting and weakening. 
To the man of action the United States is a true El 
Dorado. He finds there a congenial atmosphere; 
competitors, eager and keen; rewards great in pro- 
portion to the sum of the effort. It is an inspiring 
land. 

It will long remain so. Many, many years must 
348 



THE CONCLUSION 

elapse ere the sense of vigorous manhood, now so 
strongly experienced, grows faint and dim. The 
land is vast ; the development of it will occupy men 
for many a generation ; and always will the energy 
characteristic of the race which inhabits it be the 
distinguishing trait. For countless generations will 
opportunities present themselves to the able, the in- 
telhgent, the resolute ; for years unnumbered wiU ft 
be, as are the Britains beyond the seas, a country 
for the young, for the brave, for the hopeful. And 
this to an extent which the stay-at-home in Europe 
can never understand, for it is out of the question 
to endeavor to comprehend the United States merely 
from reading about it. The country and the people 
must be. seen to be appreciated, and even then it is 
not certain that the full and clear perception will be 
obtained, so varied are the aspects of the one and the 
other, so manifold the differences between Europe 
and America. 

The United States is in no danger whatever of 
turning into an empire, a monarchy, an autocracy 
of any sort or description. Amazing as is the ex- 
tent of the land, numerous as the population is, and 
steadily, rapidly growing more numerous, which 
would indicate, or appear to indicate, the inevitable- 
ness of a change in the form of government, there 
is no prospect, even remote, of the Americans turn- 
ing from their chosen system to try the effects of one 
outworn. Democracy has laid its hold upon the 
Nation, and it will not be loosened. This for two 
reasons: the first, that no matter how strong, how 
I able, how unscrupulous even, a Chief Magistrate may 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

prove to be in the future, the abiding sense of the 
Nation is against autocratic power, and while it is 
certain that under conditions which arise from time 
to time, there is more than a wilHngness, there is 
indeed a determination, to clothe the President with 
greater powers, it is equally sure that the country 
as a whole is ever ready to curtail these powers when 
it becomes desirable to do so. And it is one of the 
distinguishing features of the American character 
that it speedily finds the way to carry out a set 
purpose. 

The main object of increasing the powers of the 
Executive is to enable the new and dangerous prob- 
lems to be dealt with, but already it is becoming 
plain that the deep Anglo-Saxon faith in the utility 
and reliability of the courts of justice as a prefer- 
able means of staying and destroying oppression, 
is part and parcel of the belief of the Nation. 

The second cause is the feeling, born in the 
breast of every American, that it is a sound and 
wise principle that office shall not be held long by 
any one man, and that every man shall have the op- 
portunity of attaining to the highest offices in the 
land. Any tendency to autocracy is checked by the 
simple fact that ambitions are too numerous in the 
country, that the aspirants to power are too eager 
and too frequent to permit of the concentration of 
that power in the hands of one man or a small group 
of men, or to permit of its being long immobilized in 
one individual, far less continued in his family or in 
the person of his most trusted friends. 

The democratic feeling that all sovereignty re- 
350 



THE CONCLUSION 

sides in the people, and that any delegation of power 
can, in its nature, be but temporary and partial, is 
vigorous in the United States, and it is the great 
protection against any real change in the form of 
government. As for the objection that the country 
is becoming so vast that it will soon be impossible 
to govern it under democratic principles and meth- 
ods, that may be dismissed without much discussion. 
The inventions of the present day, which practically 
annihilate space and permit swift communication be- 
tween the most distant points, constitute a safeguard 
which never before existed. 

Then education, whether by means of the schools, 
the colleges and universities, or the press or the 
public platform, is doing its share to strengthen the 
democracy by enlightening and informing it. In the 
development of education, as most men clearly see, 
lies much in the hope of the future. And the love 
of education in the country must be personally ex- 
perienced to be fully understood. It is a force of 
the first magnitude, which must be reckoned with in 
any prognostication of the future of the United 
States. And that it will be valued daily more and. 
more is as certain as that the sun rises and sets. 
Education is an essential in the United States ; 
something that everyone insists upon possessing, and 
the means of obtaining it are being multiplied daily. 
It is through instruction that such marvelous prog- 
ress has already been made ; it is through instruction 
that even greater progress will yet be achieved. For 
the American understands, appreciates its value, and 
is ever prepared to make sacrifices in its favor. It is 

351 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

not with him an object of party controversy or re- 
ligious warfare: it is a natural right which must be 
satisfied. 

There are many, both in the New and in the Old 
World, who cannot bring themselves to believe in the 
value of education for the masses, and who point to 
the semi-educated specimens which abound in proof 
of the evil of general instruction. No one will deny 
that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, and 
that universal education in the United States has its 
disadvantages ; but it must be borne in mind that 
very great progress has been made which would have 
been wholly impossible but for that general educa- 
tion of the multitude; that the unpleasant results 
evidenced in the coarseness or criminality of the fe^ 
are infinitely less than the indubitable benefits con- 
ferred upon the race wliich has been singularly ad- 
vantaged by the spread of instruction. For one 
failure there are innumerable successes, and no mat- 
ter what may be urged against universal education, 
the truth remains plain: that it is in that very 
education of the masses that the uplifting must be 
sought. Without education it is impossible ; there is 
but the one means to the one end ; and in a democratic 
country, where opportunities are freely extended to 
all, it is education which is the prime necessity. In 
the fact that the American people clearly perceive 
this lies the conviction of the ultimate development 
of the Nation into one of the most remarkable, if not 
absolutely the most remarkable, the world has ever 
seen. It is not necessary to emphasize the benefit 
to the community at large of developing the intelli- 

352 



THE CONCLUSION 

gence of the individuals who compose it; one might 
as well urge that health is a good thing. And the 
Americans are not to be turned from their purpose 
by any fear of possible failure; they are aware that 
failures must always occur in larger or smaller pro- 
portion, but these are invariably overborne where 
resolution and steadfast purpose are present, by the 
triumphs won. 

With the steady growth of education comes the 
more refined atmosphere which in its turn brings 
about many of the graces of life at present not 
easily discerned in American society. These will 
certainly flow from the great stream of knowledge, 
and it requires no prophet to foretell that ere many 
generations have followed one another, so great and 
marked a change will have taken place that it will 
be difficult to believe that there ever was any other 
condition. The spirit of democracy is progressive, 
not retrogressive; it is essentially a civilizing prin- 
ciple: at present the race is yet in the stage of 
fermentation and formation; it is yet occupied with 
the solution of very pressing problems, but it will 
unquestionably advance to a conception of social in- 
tercourse in which all that is at present largely con- 
cealed by what may be termed faults of manners, 
will shine out and become as marked a characteristic 
as, unfortunately, mannerlessness is at this moment. 

The very increase, daily greater, of the sense of 
power and consequent responsibility, is bound to 
work for the weal of the country and its inhabitants. 
The careful observer, who does not allow his view 
to be clouded by merely transitorj^ manifestations, 

353 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

sees plainly the steady onward progress of society 
in the United States; the growing feeling for all 
that is truly good and noble. Strange would it be 
were it otherwise, since the country has produced 
and produces now so many men and so many women 
filled with the highest ideals, imbued with the purest 
conceptions of political and family life, endowed 
with talent and ability ; true leaders of the masses, 
which in their turn see in them the exemplars, the 
types of the highest American manhood and woman- 
hood, that — let this be very distinctly said — is the 
equal of highest manhood and womanhood in the 
most highly civilized lands of Europe. 

The press, which is very far indeed from being 
all yellow, is one of the most powerful factors in 
the progress which is being made. The perusal of 
the articles which day after day appear in the col- 
umns of the leading papers is enough to prove that 
the best journalists of America are in nowise in- 
ferior to their European comrades in the standards 
of public morality they support and advocate, in 
the force with which they express their opinions, in 
the purity of their language, in the understanding of 
their responsibilities and in their determination to 
accomplish what is their duty: the enlightening, the 
teaching of a nation of free men. They are daily 
contributing to the formation of a strong and 
healthy public opinion and public courage and spirit. 
A public opinion which is rightly guided and which 
finds expression in powerful, but moderate form, is 
the sort which is now more and more to be met with. 
It is a force which tells already; which will tell 

354 



THE CONCLUSION 

yet more and more. It is the outcome of the sense 
of responsibility ; of the pride in the country and the 
principles of the government. Men are understand- 
ing that they themselves are to do the work which 
lies ready to their hand, and that it is to be done 
by continuous and united effort, and not by spas- 
modic or individual attempts. Throughout the 
country this is the case. Everywhere are men of 
highest merit preparing to come forward, or actually 
presenting themselves to discharge the duties the 
citizen owes to the State. And the people gladly 
recognize the value of these men; they honor them; 
they support them, and surely this is public opinion 
in all its beneficent activity. 

Lawlessness exists, as it most unhappily does 
with us, in the form of disregard of law. But it 
is with this as with so many other things that re- 
quire alteration and reform: it is most patent be- 
cause men are more determined to put an end to the 
evil. The simple fact that the press, that public 
speakers, that statesmen, are daily drawing attention 
to the need of the careful, the rigid observance of 
law, is in itself a sign that the day of lawlessness, 
of disregard of law is coming to a swift end. It is 
not one solitary voice which is uplifted here and there 
throughout the country; it is a chorus of voices, 
coming from the press, from individuals ; an insis- 
tent demand that justice and its administration shall 
be the chief purpose of all. The outbursts against 
the evils of the abuse of law as at present seen, are 
growing in number and gaining in strength. Men 
are resolved that their courts shall be respected 

355 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

and their decisions carried out. They care not for 
more law; they demand the adequate enforcement of 
the statutes which already exist. 

The courts are justifying the confidence reposed 
in them. Tliey do so because in part, public opinion 
is ranging itself on their side. There are instances, 
of course, of weakness: the jury system, the treat- 
ment of witnesses, the power of wealth, the venality 
of many lawyers, the intolerable delays brought 
about by skilful splitters of hair and raisers of ob- 
jections, at this time mar the administration of 
justice; but these evils are pointed out and dwelt 
upon by the press, by the judges themselves, and the 
people are beginning to understand the importance 
of the lessons continually taught them. The ad- 
mirable conduct of certain famous cases has done 
an immense deal of good, for it has proved that the 
courts are entirely to be trusted, and that the equi- 
table administration of justice is no mere theory, no 
mere imagination, but a substantial fact on which 
accuser and accused alike may rely. The tendency, 
growing happily stronger, is to have recourse to the 
courts rather than to additional legislation ; to trust 
them, rather than the blind impulses of the mob. 
In a word, all omens, all signs point to the permanent 
establishment of the true reign of true justice in the 
country. 

And this connects itself with a yet wider field : the 
international peace. The people of the United 
States are not warhke, in the sense of seeking or 
desiring war. Their habit is not that of the Euro- 
pean nations who, by force of circumstances, are 

356 



THE CONCLUSION 

ever considering the possibilities of imminent, armed 
contest. They are, on the contrary, a nation ever 
relying on peace. It is to them the right condition 
of society. There are jingoes in America as every- 
where, but they are very far from influencing the 
Nation as a whole. And it is not merely the feeling 
that war is harmful to commerce, to business, which 
thus leads the Americans to prefer peace to combat. 
It is the conviction that most wars are quite unjus- 
tifiable, and that most of them can be avoided, and 
should be avoided in exactly the same way that con- 
tinual quarrels between individuals are avoided. 
Men, in their intercourse with each other have 
ceased to draw and fight on the slightest provoca- 
tion, or on no provocation at all. And what is com- 
mon sense in the individual is no less common sense 
in the Nation. This is what the people of the 
United States see quite plainly. It is so simple, so 
self-evident that it makes them the partisans and 
champions of peaceful methods. They will not suc- 
ceed in putting an end to all wars ; they may even 
be drawn into wars themselves, but it is quite certain 
that this will not be the case until after every eff^ort 
has been made to avoid the arbitrament of the 
sword. The peace idea is firmly implanted in the 
American breast: the idea of honorable peace, and 
the American leaders of the American people know 
that they can maintain the supremacy and the for- 
tunes of their country without constant resort to 
the mailed hand. 

Not only this, but American statesmen have shown 
and show a courageous determination to press upon 

357 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

the other nations of the world broader conceptions 
of international rights, which must bring about a 
distinct amelioration of conditions in times of war, 
especially as regards neutrals. Their contentions, 
on the whole, would, if adopted, diminish the evils 
at present inseparable from war between two great 
powers. These contentions are opposed because the 
diminution of the evils is looked upon as a mistake: 
the idea still holds firm that the more horrible war 
can be made the more rapidly will the parties to it 
tire and be ready to make peace. But when one re- 
members the twenty-five years of warfare against 
Napoleon, when, assuredly, the horrors of war were 
plainly evident, one is more inclined to side with the 
advocates of the American ideas. War is profitable 
still to one side or the other, and it is that profit, 
albeit less than in former centuries, which inclines 
nations to hold to ancient views and to reject prog- 
ress in a humanitarian direction. But backed by 
the weight of a mighty nation, of a country itself 
immensely powerful, and plainly destined to have a 
preponderating voice in the settlement of world af- 
fairs, the American and not the European idea is 
the one that will almost surely prevail. 

And when the constituent elements of the Amer- 
ican race, as it is even now being formed, are taken 
into account, when its mingling of men from all lands 
is considered, it will be seen how the very number 
of nationalities must tend to a policy of peace rather 
than one of war. It is eminently true that the 
foreigner who becomes naturalized — and that is prac- 
tically every foreigner — turns into an enthusiastic 

358 



THE CONCLUSION 

American, but he generally maintains regard, if not 
affection, for his native land. The Irishman, who 
remains Irish, may earnestly desire to see the might 
of America's arms turned against England: indeed, 
he openly declares this and calls America "Greater 
Ireland," but all the woes and grievances of Erin 
will not induce the bulk of the population to resort 
to war merely for the sake of satisfying the hatreds 
of a portion of the inhabitants. The Germans do 
not experience any dread of conflict with their 
Fatherland, though feeling against it may at times 
run high, and threatening murmurs arise as suspicion 
is excited by the Kaiser's colonial policy. The aver- 
age man in the United States is not interested In 
war; the ordinary politician is not in love with it. 
The attitude of the Nation is a powerful factor for 
the preservation of the world's peace, and it is likely 
to remain so. There is no reason apparent why there 
should occur any change in this regard. Even co- 
lonial expansion is at a discount in the United 
States ; mercantile, commercial expansion. Is another 
matter, and it is seen that that may be secured with- 
out resort to fleets or armies. 

The attraction of the United States is wonderful. 
Men resort to It from all parts of the world. The 
Briton comes in his thousands ; in one State alone, 
and one of the smaller states, some one hundred 
thousand Britons are domiciled. The great majority 
of these have become citizens of the United States, 
and good citizens, devoted to their new country and 
serving her with heart and soul. Germans innumer- 
able, Italians and Spaniards in droves, Russians and 

359 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

Slavs past counting, Scandinavians so numerous 
that they form entire communities, Asiatics ; every 
race, every creed, meet in the land. Most of these 
immigrants naturally belong to the poorer classes ; 
that does not mean that they remain in the condi- 
tion they have first known: they rise out of it, be- 
cause in America man can rise. They reach higher, 
they become ambitious, and their ambition is grati- 
fied. To them, therefore, the United States and 
democratic government appeal in the strongest possi- 
ble way. Question them, and they readily declare 
their preference for the land of their adoption. 
There is a reason for this : it is the liberty they 
enjoy, it is the opportunities they have of bettering 
themselves. 

But it is not alone the poor and the wretched, 
driven from lands of autocracy, or the better-off 
who have heard of the advantages of the land, who 
crowd to it. The institutions of higher education, of 
higher technical training are filled with many men 
from many lands. They come from the four corners 
of the earth, and they bear with them — when they 
return, which all do not — the memory of what they 
have seen, of what they have experienced, of the ad- 
mirable organization, of the excellent teaching, of 
the multiplied chances of success, of the freedom 
they have enjoyed, of the hospitality they have met 
with. Many of these never go back to their native 
land: they settle in the country. Immigrants of the 
utmost value to the people among whom they make 
their home. They do not return because — intelli- 
gent, able to judge — they see clearly that in this 

360 



THE CONCLUSION 

country the career open to them is greater than any 
they can enter in their former homes. They find 
that success is not the appanage of a chosen few, 
but is ready to the hand of him who is willing to 
work. And they remain. 

It is absurd, to put the thing mildly, to speak, as 
so many do nowadays, of the Americanizing of Euro- 
pean ideas and manners and customs, using the 
word in a derogatory sense. There is — and it has 
been set forth unhesitatingly — a very great deal in 
America that is offensive and regrettable. None own 
this more frankly than the Americans themselves, 
and none are more earnest in seeking to correct the 
evils and abuses they perceive. But all the love of 
sensation, of exaggeration, all the habit of boast- 
fulness, of brag, all the tendency to gossip and 
scandal, all the breaking away from law and order 
are not things typically American and to be met 
with in the United States only. These evils have 
grown to greater dimensions, it may be, in America, 
but they exist in European lands as well, and it 
must be borne in mind that the trend of opinion is 
against them in the United States as it is in England, 
even though no American court of justice has yet 
smitten the offending press as it has been smitten 
in Britain. 

The worst part of the press commands a regret- 
tably large circle of readers ; doubtless it may with 
truth claim "the largest circulation," but that 
should not make one lose sight of the value and 
power of that better part which influences so many 
thousands of minds in the right way. There is love 

361 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

of sensation, but the jaded appetite of the reader 
refuses now to be more than lazily stirred by the 
clamor of the yellow sheet; sensation is discounted 
by the sensible, even if eagerly sought by the multi- 
tude. And the sober, the sensible, the wise do, in 
America as in other countries, have influence over 
the public, and when it comes to deciding on a leader 
it is rarely that the people take him from the ranks 
of the sensation-mongers. They do do so from 
time to time, and invariably repent in sackcloth and 
ashes. There is love of gossip, but who shall be 
audacious enough to say that that hunger is felt 
in the American land alone? Where does it not 
flourish? Where does it not seek its food of scandal 
and falsehood and misrepresentation? 

These things are not, then, American in principle, 
any more than they are English, or French or Ger- 
man or Spanish or Italian. They are attributes of 
imperfect human nature, and they have developed 
greatly in the United States because circumstances 
have favored them. It was not ever thus ; it will not 
be ever thus. The peculiar development of civiliza- 
tion is nearly as much responsible for the so-called 
"Americanizing" of things European as are the 
American people. Similar causes have acted upon 
the nations of Europe; less vigorously, less rapidly, 
no doubt, but at bottom it is the same force at work 
and it produces the same results. 

It is a common error to assume that the peculiari- 
ties of a nation are the essentials of its character. 
In the case of the Americans it is taken for granted 
that they are all given over to the Demon of Wealth- 
SOS 



THE CONCLUSION 

at-any-cost; that they are the slaves of restless 
inquisitiveness and well-nigh irresistible curiosity and 
love of prying; that they are the victims of uncon- 
trollable brag, and worshipers of the Big in all its 
forms ; that throughout their family relations runs a 
streak, more than a streak, of disregard of sacred 
obligations. There is a basis of truth for all this ; 
just as there is a similar basis of truth in the charge 
that in England and in France and in Germany there 
are men dishonest and women untrustworthy. It is 
always easy to reason from the instances which are 
brought out into the limelight of the press and the 
courts. If one studies the records of the poHce 
tribunals in particular, it is natural that a low idea 
of the morals of the country should be the outcome. 
If one takes for granted that the idle and vicious 
rich, who are to be met with in every land, are the 
type of the great mass of the people, then it is cer- 
tain that a false judgment will be passed. And not 
only passed, but supported by proof, drawn from 
the instances referred to. 

But the American Nation is not, surprising as it 
may appear to many, composed exclusively of pluto- 
crats and of breakers of the laws of God and man. 
These exist; their presence is patent, for they take 
care to keep themselves well before the public, and 
\ a mistaken notion of their importance leads that 
part of the press which busies itself with such things, 
to keep talking of them as though they were Amer- 
icans of the Americans. They are no more so than 
the similar class in European countries is typically 
English or French or German. There are infinitely 

363 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

more good people than bad in the United States ; 
there is, indeed, no comparison between the numbers 
of the one and the other class. There are innumer- 
able famiUes which are as pure, as sweet, as blessed 
as the most perfect French or English homes. There 
are thousands to whom wealth is not necessarily the 
prime desire in life, but honesty and uprightness and 
morality; these form the root and backbone of the 
Nation. Else it would ere this have destroyed it- 
self. 

Above all, in America man stands for what he is 
worth. Let it not be imagined that the noisy revel- 
ers who day after day fill the society columns with 
accounts of their doings and follies are the exemplars 
to whom the youth of the land looks up. Far from 
it; they are estimated at their real valuelessness 
nine hundred times out of a thousand. It is not to 
them that young men, who have striven hard to ob- 
tain an education, look for guidance and encourage- 
ment. The very strenuousness of the struggle 
through which the youth of America is compelled to 
forge to the front, is a preservative against most 
of the vices of the idle and rich. Alongside of the 
plutocrats who squander the easily gained wealth 
stand the rich whose understanding of their respon- 
sibilities is perfect, and who discharge these respon- 
sibilities without sound of trump or blowing of 
horn. 

The American is apt to put forward all that is 
least attractive in his civilization. It is easy, 
therefore, to imagine that that civiHzation is rotten 
to the core: the opposite is the truth; it is sound. 

364 



THE CONCLUSION 

The habit, gradually diminishing, of making much 
of everything that goes on is the cause of the er- 
roneous impression. Attention has been drawn too 
largely to the mere material progress of the coun- 
try; too little has been paid to its marvelous prog- 
ress morally and intellectually. There are other 
things American besides the pursuit of wealth, be- 
sides the disregard of law, besides the heedlessness 
of the sanctity of marriage. There is the real equal- 
ity of opportunities, unknown to a similar degree 
anywhere else in the wide world, save in countries 
such as Canada, the Cape and Australasia — new 
countries also ; democratic countries also. There is 
the love of instruction; the readiness to make great 
sacrifices for the acquisition of education. There is 
the patriotism which manifests itself not in shouting 
or in the exploding of crackers, but in the cult of 
the ideals of the Founders of the Republic, in the 
private and amazing beneficence of individuals ; in 
the reverence, growing every day, for the memorials 
of the past. There is the uplifting of the status of 
woman, that is also carried to a point as yet unat- 
tained by any European country and which is go- 
ing on steadily and surely. 

These things are eminently American, as is the 
freedom of speech and the freedom of judgment, as 
is the cordiality one meets with everywhere, the 
encouragement given to the willing worker, the dis- 
regard of circumstances which, in other countries, 
militate against the outsider. 

Let the United States be fairly judged; let their 
people be looked at not in the columns of a sensa- 

365 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

tional press alone or in the deeds, so oft reprehen- 
sible, of a small, a very small section of the popula- 
tion, but in their homes, in their daily intercourse, 
in their institutions of learning, in their innumerable 
establishments for the relief of the poor, the sick 
and the crippled, and the ignorant, and then one will 
gain a clearer idea of what the country is and of 
the future yet in store for it. 

Let the steady growth of sound public opinion be 
taken into account, as is not usually done; observe 
the way in which day after day develops the sense 
of responsibility, individual and national; note the 
manner in which men of great parts and noble char- 
acter are coming forward more and more to share 
in and direct the Government, and it will be con- 
ceded that not only is the United States far from 
being unable to correct the evils which are acknowl- 
edged to exist, but that there is not the faintest 
reason to despair of the greatest Republic the world 
has seen: the home of millions of earnest, true men 
and women ; the hope of a humanity yet unborn. 

The hope of a humanity yet unborn ! 

For below the strife of the multitude, below the 
seething of passions, the sweeping of the mad selfish- 
ness, the striving after power for individual satis- 
faction; below the contention of oposing forces of 
capital and labor; deep below the bitter poverty 
that blasts human lives, and the squalid splendor of 
shameless corruption and sin, that brazenly flaunts 
itself; below all the passing, ephemeral manifesta- 
tions of the littleness of man and the frailty of his 
works, lies, clear to the sight of him who cares to 

366 



THE CONCLUSION 

fathom the profound, the living truth that "all men 
are created equal; that they are endowed by their 
Creator with certain inalienable rights; that among 
these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. 
That, to secure these rights, governments are insti- 
tuted among men, deriving their just powers from 
the consent of the governed." 

These immortal words, penned by patriots, are not 
prized by their descendants alone, by the untold 
millions who, in successive generations, have fore- 
gathered to them in the land they set free ; they are 
believed in by all thinking men the world over ; they 
form the precious creed of all who seek the welfare 
of humanity, the steady progress of the human race. 
Not in one age, not, perhaps, in many ages, will they 
bear their full fruit, but surely will they eventually 
bear it, for they stand as a revelation, as they stand 
as a declaration. 

In the land where they blazed like Heaven's own 
light in the time of storm and stress, they have al- 
ready been greatly realized; they will yet be better 
realized, better understood, better taken to heart. 
The Inmost soul of them is passing into the soul of 
the mighty Nation that is being welded out of the 
innumerable elements the wide world has furnished; 
the children of the next generation will fathom them 
more deeply than those of the present, and they who 
shall come after them in the future years shall make 
them clearer yet. In them, in the truth they con- 
tain, has lain the secret of the progress of the Na- 
tion; in that same truth, made more fully manifest, 
brought nearer to the understanding of everyone, 

367 



AMERICANS AND THE BRITONS 

lies the hope of the coming generations, of the many 
nations, not in one hemisphere or the other, but the 
broad earth over. As the meaning of them sinks 
deeper into the hearts and souls of men, will men 
proceed farther on the road they are traveling 
now: the road to perfect equality, to true life, to 
genuine liberty, to sound conception of happiness. 
Great as has been the onward advance, greater will 
it be, for each year makes plainer the power of the 
truth. It is active at this moment; it has built up 
the land and its people ; it has in itself the virtue to 
correct, to destroy the evils that are the consequence 
not of the democratic principle, but of the wrong 
interpretation of it, or of the return to outworn 
creeds and threadbare tradition, that can but clog 
the feet of those who would press forward to the 
glorious goal. It is the truth which has set men 
free ; which makes even the humblest look up in hope, 
the faint take courage, the brave hurry on with re- 
newed effort. It has built up a nation where man 
may carve out his own way, confident that his re- 
ward will come; it has destroyed the old lines of 
division, and broken down the parting walls. The 
path is clear for the wayfarer; the road free to the 
traveler. Each man may go forward, in the measure 
of his strength, to the attainment of his hopes. 

And it has done and will do more. It is the 
proclamation of the solidarity of mankind. Each 
works not for himself alone, but for all the others 
likewise. It makes all citizens share in the work of 
the State; it makes them all understand that they 
have a duty to others besides themselves: to the 

368 



THE CONCLUSION 

family, the city, the commonwealth. It will grow 
and grow stronger and brighter and more penetrat- 
ing, and in the centuries humanity will look back 
and be grateful, for with the inspiring breath of it 
man renews his belief in his own nobility, in his own 
high mission. 

What matters it that imperfections and blemishes 
still exist; that real and great evils still prevail? 
These will disappear, slowly, to be sure, but dis- 
appear as other blemishes, other imperfections, other 
evils have slowly disappeared in ages gone by. It is 
not the individual atoms that count: it is the blazing 
glory of the sun that amazes, and in the progress of 
the race it is not the temporary clouds that should 
arrest the gaze; it is the essential advance, the un- 
deniable, splendid onward march that alone is truly 
characteristic, truly typical. 



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li BINDERY INC. P^ . x- ^ -,'>^*^ij^. • o 



aA AUG SQ 

B^l^ N. MANCHESTER, 
^^ INDIANA 46962 







